


You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home

by vinesse



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-11-26 13:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 22,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20930678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinesse/pseuds/vinesse
Summary: A collection for all of the prompts for the Fictober2019 challenge going on at fictober-event on tumblr.





	1. It Will Be Fun, Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This isn't the first that I've written for AFTG, but it's been quite a while since I've written anything. It's also been a bit since I've read the books themselves with the exception of the last 6 or so chapters of The Kings Men, so if there are any canon discrepancies.... :)

Andrew watched the smoke rise from the cigarette in his fingers, swirling up lazily into the air. 

Inside the Columbia house the rest of the Foxes were loud, cheering interspersed with dance music that contained a bass track that rattled the outside railing that Andrew was currently leaning against. The party had been Renee’s idea, quietly whispered first to Aaron and Nicky before even broached with the more prickly of the Monster group, who took one look at the others before pointedly looking away, silently giving his consent.

Now, surrounded by people, and music, and _ too much_, Andrew felt something akin to regret. He squashed the feeling down, burying it deep beneath the surface. 

“Hiding out here?”

Andrew glanced to the side, eyes partially hidden by mussed bangs, before turning back to stare straight ahead. The cigarette still burned, dangerously close to singing his hand. He opened his mouth, but there was something hiding behind Neil’s eyes that made him sheath his claws, just this once. “Something like that.”

Neil sighed, long and low, before leaning against the railing beside Andrew, but not close enough to touch. Never close enough to touch, Andrew always noticed. “You didn’t have to say yes.”

His fist curled reflexively before he forced it flat against the chipped white wood beneath it. “I never say yes, if I don’t mean it.” Neil, of all, should know that small, significant fact. He went silent, just for a minute, before taking a deep drag of his almost-forgotten cigarette. “Renee’s leaving for the damn Peace Corps,” he finally said, voice flat while smoke rose from his mouth to the sky, “Nicky is going to Germany. Aaron is going to New York. Kevin to Texas.”

“I’m staying here,” Neil said, gently. 

“You’re staying here,” Andrew repeated, tilting his head slightly in recognition. “I’m going to Seattle.”

Neil shifted, and Andrew felt a stab of annoyance at how fast he caught on, always quick. “You’re afraid,” he said, and held up a hand when Andrew opened his mouth. “It’s new, your family moving away, nothing for you to protect anymore,” he continued thoughtfully, eyebrows drawing together. “Andrew…”

There was silence then, though it felt light. Inside the house, Andrew heard the bell-like laugh that belonged to Renee. “I,” he began, finally putting out his cigarette in the ashtray that someone (likely Nicky) had thoughtfully put outside, “I don’t like it. They’ll be too far away. I can’t…” Andrew felt the urge to throw the ashtray, see it break against the concrete of the driveway. 

“You can’t protect them,” Neil guessed, carefully edging the targeted ashtray out of reach. “Andrew, you don’t have to protect them anymore. They’ll be fine.”

Andrew shot him a look, eyes narrowed. He _ knew _ that, dammit. He knew. He still couldn’t get rid of the feeling that everything was slipping out of his hands, out of his control, and that nothing good would come of it. 

After so long holding everything together, it was maddeningly hard to let go.

There was nothing else said, nothing else to say. After a long minute, Neil turned to him, eyes narrowed in a question as he slowly reached his hand out. At Andrew’s nod, he slid his fingers around Andrew’s elbow, light at the touch still. “It’s going to be fine, Andrew." 

“You always say that,” Andrew responded dryly, reaching up one hand to lay on top of Neil’s. “One hundred and five.”

Neil’s laugh mixed with the sounds of the others floating through the open window, before the door slammed open with a bang, Nicky grinning from the doorway. “There you two are! Allison’s making popcorn, get in here! Kevin’s agreeing to finally watch something other than Exy, thank _ God._”

Neil laughed again, smile reaching his eyes as he gently pulled Andrew forward. “See? Miracles do happen. Renee told you it would be fun.”


	2. Just Follow Me, I Know The Area

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're taking a little dive into AU land here; Neil is an aspiring sports journalist.

Neil sighed in frustration, shooting the street sign that he was  _ sure _ he had passed ten minutes ago a derisive look. It seemed to mock him, taunting in a barely-there whisper inside his head, “ _ Can’t even navigate your way to the job interview, what makes you think that they're going to hire you after that? _ ”

He gripped the paper-printed directions in his left hand, breathing out slowly as he leaned against the drugstore that sat at the corner where he had  _ thought _ the building for the newspaper he had applied to was supposed to be. He glanced at the directions again, brows furrowing before he crumpled them even more in frustration; they must be outdated, because there was no way that Neil had messed up that badly. They were just directions, for God’s sake. Not the Rosetta Stone.

It was then that Neil felt the creeping, crawling sensation that was so familiar, one that let him know that someone was watching him. He froze, just a fraction of a second, before carefully pulling out his very outdated phone, flipping it open as if he had gotten a message, using the action to cover a frutive search around him.

It wasn’t hard to figure out, especially when the blond man inside the cafe across the street stared back at him unabashedly, lifting the cup of whatever in front of him to take a long, slow sip. Neil felt his face heat up, partially in embarrassment, partially in anger. He pointedly turned his head, lifting up his crumpled papers as he looked from the street sign, down, then back to the street sign.

“You’re lost.”

Neil jerked, fingers twitching, aching to snatch the knife from his back pocket, to raise it, swing—

There was a soft noise, almost a snort, and the blond man crossed his arms in front of his chest, drawing Neil’s attention to the arm bands that covered his forearms. “Well?”

“What makes you think that, and what makes it your problem?” Neil snapped back, temper flaring to cover how startled he felt. He hadn’t even  _ noticed _ the other man leaving the cafe and crossing the street to where Neil stood, and that wasn’t like him. This job was already taking a toll on his nerves, and he hadn’t even taken the interview yet.

The stranger shot him an unimpressed look, hand reaching slowly to gingerly take the directions from Neil’s loose grip.

It was that, the slowness, the obvious  _ “Can I?”  _ that exuded from the action that convinced Neil to let him. He watched as the blond looked at the destination address, then huffed in surprise as he turned and began walking.

“Hey!”

“These are old. That company moved buildings two months ago.” The stranger kept walking, glancing back once at Neil before he turned to stare straight ahead. “If you had looked up when you were walking, you probably would have seen it.”

Neil bristled, chewing his lip to keep from saying something he would regret. After all, the asshole was helping him.

He thought.

“Why are you helping me? Who are you?” Neil questioned, finally picking up speed so he was beside his apparent savior, no longer trailing behind like a lost puppy.

“Andrew,” the man- Andrew- said, glancing down at the directions before balling them up, dropping them in a nearby trash can, ignoring Neil’s muted sound of displeasure.

Neil waited a minute before prompting, “And you’re helping because…?”

Andrew shot him a look, clearly not in the mood to explain himself. “Just follow me, I know the area. The secondhand embarrassment from watching you walk in circles for twenty minutes was too painful to put up with.”

Neil didn’t even bother to conceal the roll of his eyes then, before pulling out the notebook he had spent the night before crafting, flipping through it to the section he had marked with a star, the one that had a list of the most common interview questions. He ignored Andrew’s half-interested glance as he scanned the page.

“We’re here.” Andrew opened the door to the building (Clearly labeled  _ The Columbia Herald _ , Neil noticed with a pinch of aggravation), letting it fall closed behind him rather than holding it open. Neil sighed, and followed him inside.

The receptionist nodded at Andrew, something that caused Neil to pause, frowning lightly, and he stepped towards the desk, glancing at Andrew. “Thanks for the help,” he began, only to be brought up short by a hand in his face, not touching but  _ almost _ . He bristled.

“Andrew Minyard, interviewing on behalf of the sports news column,” Andrew said, tone bored as he dropped his hand, not even holding it out for a shake. “Neil Josten, interviewing for a position to write for the sports news column.”

“How did you know that?” Neil thought he might hate the man already, and it had been less than an hour. “Why didn’t you say anything when we were walking here?”

“You provided a headshot on your application.” Andrew turned, ignoring the woman who was smiling at the front desk, and headed for the elevators off to the left. “Are you interviewing or not, Josten.”

Oh, Neil definitely hated him.


	3. Now? Now You Listen To Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a small step into Kandreil territory with this one.

Andrew flicked his cigarette onto the sidewalk, arms draped loosely over the door of the GS, eyes narrowed as he watched the two morons run up and down the street, bickering. 

“You still have to practice, it’s not enough to just be fast, you have to be  _ better _ to be more accurate than ever because Edgar Allen– Hey!” 

There was an undignified squawk as Neil effortlessly pulled ahead, leaving Kevin behind him as he raced back to the parking lot, no longer on a trajectory for the court but rather towards Andrew, and Andrew’s car. Andrew raised a slim eyebrow as Neil pulled up short right beside him, barely panting, while Kevin raved behind him, still a good fifty yards away.

“He’s being exceptionally insufferable today,” was Neil’s only comment as he bent to re-tie his shoelaces, shooting a glance up towards Andrew. 

“Hmm,” was the blond’s only reply as he lit up another cigarette, inhaling deeply before he blew smoke up into the air, eyes sliding half shut as he turned to watch Kevin slowly jog closer. “Could be something to do with how the key to the court just disappeared off his keychain. Wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you, Josten?”

Neil gave a half-smile, tightening his laces before straightening up, crossing his arms behind his head. “He should really keep a closer eye on his keys then, huh.”

Andrew rolled his eyes then, blowing smoke into Kevin’s face as he finally reached them, ignoring Kevin’s hiss of disapproval. “What are we doing here, if we can’t get in.”

“We can still run! Being near the court might give you the inspiration to actually give a shit for once in your miserable–”

Neil sighed as Kevin reeled back from the door hitting him straight in the chest as Andrew shoved it open and hopped out, keys swinging in a circle around his index finger. “Kevin, shut up.”

There was only a soft wheeze in response, which Andrew took as both acknowledgement and agreement. He started for the locked court, Neil falling into step beside him, and after a moment and a few long strides Kevin appeared on his other side, silent for once in his life.

Andrew nodded towards Neil as they reached the door, and the redhead pulled a lone key from his pocket, unlocking the door and shoving it open before disappearing inside towards the locker rooms, Kevin following closely behind, already starting up once again over the theft of his key to his precious court.

Andrew waited until their voices were distant before throwing his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out with his foot, then followed the other two inside.

Neil and Kevin were already on the court by the time Andrew got his gear on and joined them, flinging the door to the inner court open hard enough so it ricocheted off the wall with a bang. He pretended not to see Neil’s grin, staring Kevin in the eyes almost as a dare. 

It took just a few seconds before Kevin lost the battle to stay silent, eyes narrowing as he opened his mouth, and Neil sighed.

“Now? Now you listen to me? Now you’re taking this seriously?” Kevin asked, almost incredulously, as Andrew shoved past him to the home goal.

“I never said I was taking anything seriously, you fucking junkie. Now shut up before I change my mind,” Andrew replied, tone even as he took stance. Kevin shot him one more uppity look before he took a deep breath, preparing as he lined up his shot on the goal.

Neil was still grinning from half court, but Andrew ignored him in favor of shutting his goal down, feeling just a twist of amusement as Kevin grew more and more frustrated before finally switching to his dominant hand, taking shot after shot on the goal.

It was harder then, a testament to how dedicated (or delusional) Kevin was to regaining his former ability, and by the time Neil started in on the goal too Andrew felt the exhaustion deep in his bones, and he desperately wanted a cigarette.

He finally called time after two hours, throwing down his racquet and stripping his helmet and gloves off in a clear indication that he was done. Kevin made a disgusted snort of disapproval before snapping at Neil to set up the cones for Raven-style drills.

It was two more hours before the other two idiots were finished, bickering in the showers as Andrew left them behind to sit in the car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited. 

It only took one abrupt stop on the way back to Fox Tower to shut the other two up, Neil swearing softly as his nose brushed against the dashboard and Kevin howling as he slid off the back seat into Andrew’s. 

It was still silent as they rode the elevator up to their floor, and Kevin unlocked the door to their suite, purposefully avoiding looking at the other two as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. Neil raised his eyebrows at Andrew, a silent question on his face, and Andrew pretended that the pleased smile that curled Neil’s lips at his nod didn’t cause his stomach to flip, just a little.

“Kevin, get your ass in here, we’re going to bed,” Neil half-whispered, following Andrew to their room. He held the door open just long enough for Kevin to slip in before he shut and locked it, turning to get ready for bed while Andrew did the same.

“Outside,” Andrew ordered, sinking into the mattress first, back pressed against the wall. Kevin looked affronted, only for a split second, before pushing Neil down next to Andrew before following suit, curling up at the edge of the bed.

Neil shuffled a little, moving just close enough to Andrew to not touch before pulling Kevin closer, one hand curling gently around the other’s wrist. “Don’t move much, or we’re shoving you off,” he warned, eyes already sliding shut.

Kevin looked at Andrew, who only nodded, and then closed his eyes as well, curling up just slightly towards Neil.

It took a little longer for Andrew to fall asleep, watching the other two and trying to fight the feeling of contentment that wormed its way into his chest.


	4. I Know You Didn't Ask For This

_ Thank you. _

_ You were amazing. _

Andrew forcefully relaxed his fingers, staring at the phone in his hand. Five simple words were enough to undo him, to rattle him, to make him feel the helplessness that he had told himself he would never feel ever again, and he hated it. He hated Neil Josten even more for saying them. For disappearing. For everything under the goddamn sun he had done since Andrew had picked him up from the airport, fresh from Millport all that time ago. 

_ Thank you. _

There was the flex of plastic as Andrew tightened his grip.

_ You were amazing. _

Kevin jumped as Andrew let out a short laugh, glancing at the silent phone in the blond’s hand before up at his face, warily settling back onto the couch once again. Andrew ignored him, and the darkening bruises that ringed Kevin’s neck, in favor of opening the most recent text message on Neil’s phone once again, staring down at the zero on the screen like it could give him the answers that Kevin couldn’t.

The others were gone, off doing something that Andrew couldn’t have cared less about, and Andrew had refused to go or let Kevin out of his sight, and for now he kept his hands off the other man, letting him stew over the current bruises he had. 

“Andrew–”

“You,” Andrew said, voice deceptively even as he snapped Neil’s phone shut, “are not making the wisest decisions right now. Do you want to keep going, Kevin? Do I actually need to crush that stupid throat of yours before you understand?”

Kevin was silent for all of two minutes, before opening his mouth once again. “I know you didn’t ask for this. All of this, with the Moriyamas, with the Wesninskis…”

“What part of anything that has happened makes you think that I didn’t ask for this.” Andrew crushed a cigarette between his fingers, rather than lighting it, before flicking it at Kevin’s face. “What I didn’t ask for was to be lied to, Kevin Day. What I didn’t ask for was for one of mine to disappear. _ That _ is what I didn’t ask for.” It took all his strength not to crush the entire pack, just like he had imagined crushing Kevin just a scant few hours beforehand. “Shut up, and sit there. If you open your mouth again, that will be the last time that you ever do.”

Kevin did as he was told, dropping onto the windowsill where he resumed staring out of the window, looking for what Andrew didn’t care.

All he cared about was something that was missing, something that caused the rage within his chest to seethe, something that a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered that he wanted back, answers or no answers.

Neil Josten _ would _ come back, and Andrew would be waiting for him.


	5. I Might Just Kiss You

Neil Josten had a problem.

It wasn’t really any ordinary problem that could be solved through his usual method of running away, oh no. That, the world had apparently decided, would be way too easy on Neil, especially after his  _ cushy _ and  _ comfortable _ past. 

No, this was a problem that wouldn’t go away quickly, or without any struggle. The problem’s name was Kevin Day, and no one would attribute adjectives such as “simple” or “easy” to Kevin, in any sense.

Neil pressed against the outer wall of the court, intense as he watched Kevin shoot shot after shot with his left hand over his right. The left hand that had been shattered and broken, not that long ago. The hand that everyone was pretty sure would never heal.

There was something that felt dangerously unlike hatred in Neil’s stomach, and he didn’t want to think of what it could possibly be, because if it wasn’t hatred then he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it.

Andrew was a terror in the goal, obviously getting frustrated with every ball that made it past his defense, sharp in his movements and silent under the onslaught that Kevin presented. Neil spared him half a glance, frowning more when the feeling in his gut intensified. 

This was a serious problem.

He left then, fingers clenched tight as he quickly walked to the exit door, breaking into a full sprint the minute his feet hit the sidewalk outside. 

The further away he got, the better he felt. There  _ weren't _ any problems, he was just reacting out of surprise to seeing Kevin play left-handed, that was it. That was what curled in his chest like a smoking dragon, made his heart hurt, made his breath catch in his throat. Surprise, and hope. That was all there was to it, surprise that Kevin could  _ still _ surprise him, even after all of this and all he knew about Kevin. Hope that they might just win, in the end, after all.

It took him twenty minutes to walk back to the GS, and he sat down against the front tire when he realized that the other two still weren’t there. Neil bent his knees and rested his arms on top of them, chin digging into his forearm. 

It wasn’t long before the other two joined him, Kevin locking the court door behind them while Andrew stalked to the car, face red from exhaustion, hair wet from the shower. He took one look at Neil before nudging him with his foot, face carefully arranged into a bored expression. “You disappeared, junkie.”

Neil wasn’t sure when Andrew would have even had time to notice that he was gone, given the distraction that Kevin had been providing on the court. “Went for a run,” he said instead, slowly rising and shaking out his legs. “You two were getting boring to watch.”

Kevin gave an affronted noise as he yanked the back door to the car open, with his right hand Neil noticed. “What do you mean ‘boring’, this is the first time I’ve  _ ever _ seen Andrew give two shits–”

“Shut up, Kevin,” Neil and Andrew monotoned simultaneously as Neil slid into the passenger seat.

“No one wants to hear you speak anymore,” Andrew continued, starting the car up and heading back to Fox Tower. “I’m done with you for the night.”

“Done?” Kevin echoed, shooting Neil a nasty glare as Neil waved him away dismissively. “No we’re not done, we need to strategize now that you actually are putting forth some damn effort!”

Andrew jerked the car to a stop in the parking lot, getting out and hitting the lock button whenever Kevin opened his mouth to talk again. Neil grinned, following them both inside, elbowing Kevin out of the way of the elevator and jamming the close door button as fast as possible, Andrew watching dispassionately. 

Kevin made it onto the elevator, shooting Neil another dirty look, and the group rode up to their floor in silence.

Andrew took the bathroom first, the sound of the water turning on echoing into the room before the door slammed shut hard enough that Matt pounded on the shared wall after a tense second. Kevin scoffed, then turned on his heel towards Neil, eyes alight with something that  _ definitely _ filled Neil’s stomach with dread. Dread and annoyance.

“Now that we have a competent and motivated goalie, you’re going to need to get better. You’re going to have to be faster, the Ravens are going to be expecting you this time, and–”

“Kevin,” Neil said, shoving him aside to kick off his shoes next to his bed, “If you don’t shut up, I might just kiss you. And make you shut up.”

There was a beat of silence, a blush blooming across Kevin’s face, and the click of the bathroom door opening seemed to stun him into action again. “You– What? I– Don’t even fucking joke, Neil,” he snapped, bending to tug on the laces of his shoes. “This isn’t the time for your bullshit, I’m serious–”

“Kevin,” Andrew intoned, shoving him sideways as he headed towards his bed, “Shut. Up. Before I actually stab you.”

Kevin shot Andrew a glare, then Neil a look that he couldn’t decipher before climbing up onto the bed above Andrew’s, face pale again in the darkness as he looked over the railing one last time before burying himself into his blankets.

Neil looked up after him for another beat, then dropped his gaze to a bored-looking Andrew, smiling a half-smile and climbing into bed himself. 

Neil Josten had a problem, but maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as he thought it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably got the timeline of Neil moving in with Andrew and Kevin wrong, but you know what, it's too late.


	6. Yes, I'm Aware. Your point?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little re-write of the first chapter of The Foxhole Court! I just thought that it was the perfect opportunity for the prompt to slide in.

They appeared in the locker room after the last game of the season, long after everyone else had gone home.

Neil tightened his grip on his racquet, eyes darting around the room subconsciously. There was only one exit, the one that the stranger (he didn’t recognize him, that meant he was _ safe_, it wasn’t his father’s people, he was safe) had walked through. If it had just been him, Neil might have tried to make a run for it.

The sight of Kevin Day following him, though, had frozen Neil in his tracks.

Kevin looked around Millport’s locker room, sneer set firmly on his face. Neil recognized that look, even still. _ Not good enough _, he read in Kevin’s eyes. He had no attachment to Millport, not really, but he bristled anyway.

“Who are you?”

The stranger looked at Neil, then tapped the thick manila folder under his arm. “David Wymack. The other one over there is Kevin Day– Kevin, get that look off of your face,” he said, voice rumbly and low and for some reason, Neil wanted so much to like it. “We’re here to recruit you.”

“No one recruits from Millport. Not even the Foxes,” Neil replied, stiffening even more when Wymack tossed the folder onto the bench near him, _ Neil Josten _ written with a heavy hand in sharpie on the front. “What are you really doing here."

It was then that Kevin finally spoke up, tearing his eyes away from the chipping locker paint. “What do you mean, ‘what are we really doing here’? What other reason would we be here for?” He scoffed, then. Neil really wanted to hit him. “You’re the only one worth a damn on this pathetic team. You’re coming to the foxes.”

Maybe it was Kevin’s tone. Scratch that, Neil thought, it was _ completely _ Kevin’s tone that made him want to swing his racquet in the other boy’s face. “I’m not, though. I was never planning to play collegiate. This was just for fun.” His mind raced, while he tried to keep his expression neutral. Kevin Day had been signed to the Palmetto State Foxes? 

“You are,” Kevin argued, taking a step closer towards Neil. “You need us.”

Not, ‘we need you’. 

Kevin didn’t know how right he was, but the Foxes were unattainable. Maybe, in another life, if Kevin Day hadn’t ever signed to them. But now, there was too much attention there, nowhere to hide. Wymack had come bearing the one gift that Neil both wanted more than anything in the world, but also the one thing that he could never accept.

What would his mother think, if he did?

Neil stood up quickly then, shaking his head firmly. “No. I don’t. I’m not signing with you.” He stepped towards the door then.

“Yes, you are–” Kevin began, but Neil didn’t stick around to hear anything else.

He bolted, dropping his racquet, leaving his bag behind in the locker room. He’d run, he could be back to the house in thirty, he could steal a car and be on the road within the hour and it would be like he was never there–

The only warning Neil got was a glint of bright orange in the lights of the hallway, and then he was on the ground, chest aching like he had taken a gunshot in it. There was some gasping, choking noise, and as the ringing in his ears slowly died down, Neil realized that it was himself.

“Dammit, Minyard!” Wymack’s voice thundered down the empty hallway. “You could have benched him for the rest of the season with that move!”

“Yes, I’m aware,” The voice came from somewhere to Neil’s right, and it took an enormous amount of effort to reign in his breath, and turn. “Your point? He was almost out of here, and I bet from the look on his face we wouldn’t be able to track him down if he had gotten free.”

All of five feet tall, blond Andrew Minyard hovered in Neil’s vision, face unnaturally blank. Neil knew him, of course. The only one to ever turn down the Edgar Allen Ravens.

Neil wheezed again, when Wymack pulled him to his feet. “You ok there, Josten?” The older man didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t fly three people out here to the middle of nowhere to not even get a damn word in edgewise. Are you going to listen?”

It was still hard to breathe, but Neil shot him a resigned glare. 

“It works that you’re all the way out here. No one knows we’re here, not the school, not the board. There’s a confidentiality clause in your contract. No one’s going to know you’re with us until the season starts in August, and you’re settled in on the campus.”

Wymack was talking like Neil had already agreed, rather than him having done the exact opposite, and for a tiny, brief second Neil let Wymack’s words slip into his brain. He let himself imagine playing on the collegiate level, to be able to play exy as much as he wanted, to be a part of the team… 

His mother would have killed him for even thinking about it.

“I can’t,” Neil began, voice ragged. “I just can’t.”

“You can,” Wymack said.

Neil looked at Kevin, who’s eyes showed no recognition. “It’s a bad idea.”

Wymack shoved a stack of papers in Neil’s face, the manila folder that Neil had thought had been left behind. “Are you going to start signing stuff now?”

Neil looked at the stapled papers, the name _ Neil Josten _ in bold, slightly different type than the rest of the document, and closed his eyes briefly. 

“I have to ask my mom,” he finally said, and if his voice broke just a little on the last word, Wymack didn’t say anything.

“You’re nineteen, right?” On paper, yes, but Neil wasn’t going to contradict the falsified papers that he had used to enroll at Millport. “What do you need her permission for?”

“I just have to discuss it with her first.”

“She’ll be happy.” Oh, if only Wymack knew, Neil thought.

“Maybe,” Neil replied, finally taking the offered contract, staring down at the printed words like they might disappear any second. 

“Do you need us to talk to her? Or your dad?” Wymack asked, looking down at Neil with narrowed eyes. He flicked a cool look at Andrew and Kevin, before flicking his fingers at them. “You two, in the car. We’ll be out in a minute.”

Kevin opened his mouth to protest, but an aborted swing at his abdomen by a smiling Andrew quelled all fight he had in him. He shot Neil an indecipherable look before heading for the exit, Minyard following without another look back.

“Your coach mentioned that he thought you were sleeping here, rather than your house. That have anything to do with getting your mother’s permission? Are they going to be a problem, Josten?"

“No,” Neil replied, still staring down at the line that awaited his signature. “They won’t be a problem.”

Wymack clapped him on the shoulder then, a heavy gesture that bent Neil’s knees just a little. “Welcome to the lineup, Josten.”

He left then in search of Neil’s coach, leaving Neil to hold his contract like it was a bomb, saying some words about having Hernandez fax it over on Monday that went in one ear and out the other. 

He was signed to the Palmetto State Foxes, or he would be soon enough.

Oh, if she were alive his mother would _ kill _ him.


	7. No, And That's Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the beginning, there was Wymack...

“I would like to come with Kevin.”

Wymack looked up from the stack of papers on his desk, eyes narrowing at the blond standing in his doorway, the door still shaking from being shoved open without so much as a knock. He had anticipated this, of course, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to deal with it.

He pretended to think about it for a second, a nod to the subtle show of respect that Andrew had given, the implied command rather than the usual outright demand. “No.”

“Oh,” Andrew said, stepping into the room and dropping into one of the uncomfortable folding chairs Wymack had stationed in front of his desk, propping his legs up on top of Wymack’s stacks of papers. “I should have clarified. I _ am _ coming with Kevin.” 

He threw something onto the desk, and Wymack knew without looking that it would be a plane ticket, most likely the same time and seat right next to Kevin Day’s. 

One day, he’d have to get one of those fancy locks for his office, maybe with a keycode.

Too bad that wouldn’t stop Andrew if he wanted to get in.

“I don’t recall asking if you wanted to, Minyard. What makes you think, after I told Kevin no, that I would let you come too?” He really didn’t get paid enough to deal with all of these kids, Wymack thought idly. Maybe if he added a few zeros to his contract for next year the board wouldn’t notice…

“Oh Coach, what makes you think that you could stop us?” Andrew’s voice was a sickly fake sweet, completely at odds with the unnatural blankness of his expression, and Wymack felt that twist in his gut that he got sometimes, when he thought too hard about what had happened to his kids before he had gotten his hands on them.

He looked back down at the paper in his hand rather than respond, even when he heard the _ whoosh _ from Andrew’s lighter, and the smell of a cigarette. 

Neil Josten stared up at him from the paper, the standard yearbook picture that Coach Hernandez had provided. There was something lurking in his eyes, something that shone even through the black and white ink, something that was like a siren call in Wymack’s head.

_ Fox _ , the voice whispered. _ This is a fox, and he needs you. _

That voice had gotten him into trouble, so much trouble over the years. Example number hundred or so was sitting across from him at the desk, acting like transformation into a chimney was his God-given assignment on planet Earth.

With a sigh, he dropped the picture back onto his desk, reaching across the mess to both shove Andrew’s feet off and pluck the cigarette from his mouth, being oh so careful not to make skin contact. He knew what the black armbands on his player contained, though so far Andrew hadn’t felt the need to personally show him.

Andrew blinked slowly at him, before lazily getting to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off his black t-shirt before swiping the plane ticket from in front of Wymack, waving it teasingly as he turned to the door. “See you on the plane to Millport, Coach.”

Wymack stared after him, long after Andrew had left the building, fingers itching to reach into the locked drawer on the left side of his desk, to pull the bottle he had been hoping to save for the first day of summer practice. 

He looked down at Neil Josten again, instead, frowning as he read the extremely sparse profile that had been provided. 

Only child, parents constantly traveling. Nineteen years old, striker. _ May be sleeping in the locker room _, the coach had hand-written in the margins. 

Kevin had said that the Foxes needed him, needed a striker that played like he had everything to lose on the court like Josten did, but Wymack thought it was something a little bit different.

Sure, the Foxes needed a striker like Josten, but there was just _ something _ about the kid that made Wymack think that just maybe, he needed the Foxes too.


	8. Can You Stay

When the change began, Andrew stood up.

Neil remained sitting on the floor, back pressed up against the wall, white-tipped fingers digging hard into the flesh of his leg. He hid his forehead against his crossed arms atop his knees, but Andrew saw the sickening roll of his skin, saw the beads of sweat roll down his chin, heard the shudder in Neil’s breath.

“Can you stay?” Neil ground out, shuddering again, pressing his mouth against his arms. There was a hitch in his breath as he whispered the beginning of a word that Andrew refused to listen to, then a sharp groan as the bones in his fingers began to pop.

Andrew looked back down, hand resting on the doorknob, and considered for a second.

He hadn’t ever stayed for the full transformation; he had figured that Neil wouldn’t have wanted him there, to see his bones break and form back together again, see him get sick from the change. Neil had always sought him out afterwards instead, usually curling up into a tight ball next to wherever Andrew had hidden.

Neil groaned low in his throat, and Andrew slid down to sit against the opposite wall, legs spread out, arms crossed in just a way that his fingers grazed gently against the hilt of his knives. He didn’t think that he would need them, not really, but lingering images of shredded blankets, of walls scored with claw marks wormed their way inside his head.

It took over an hour, Neil’s body coming apart under Andrew’s watchful gaze, mending together under a thick red coat, unnatural icy blue eyes, claws that dug deep furrows into the wood of the floor beneath them. 

Neil was still on the lean side as a wolf, but big enough that when he turned furious eyes on Andrew, Andrew stiffened reflexively. Neil growled, low and angry, taking one lightning-quick bound to clear the room and knock Andrew to the floor, paws heavy on Andrew’s arm and chest, teeth grazing his neck. Hot breath hit against his cheek, and Andrew stilled.

“Neil,” Andrew said, then grew quiet as Neil snarled back in response. 

He closed his eyes instead, laying underneath Neil, frozen still. “Abram.”

Eventually, after a shudder that rolled from tail tip to ears, Neil backed down, stepping off of Andrew and retreating to the furthest corner of the room, curling up into a massive swirl of fur and watchful eyes. He remained there, even as Andrew sat up, examined the faint scratches on his arm, then stood, moving into Neil’s space.

He sat down beside the wolf, brushing gently against the warm fur of his back, and stared out the window before pulling his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, deftly lighting one and inhaling deeply. “Josten.”

Neil whined lowly in response, shifting just a little to rub against Andrew’s side. He looked into Andrew’s eyes, head resting against his front paws, and Andrew inclined his head in something that could have passed for a nod.

Regret flooded into his chest, regret that wasn’t his, and Andrew pulled up his walls just as quickly as he had let them down. “Stop,” he said, teeth grinding together as he flicked his cigarette, ash dropping on the floor dangerously close to Neil’s tail. “I don’t give a shit. You didn’t mean to. I said yes.”

Neil was quiet, and when Andrew opened himself again to the bond, the regret was gone. Replacing it were flashes of the moon, of trees, the faint scent of cigarette smoke, a low chanting that Andrew didn’t understand, but felt like _ run, free, run, Andrew _ in his gut.

“Dumb wolf. I’m staying here,” Andrew said, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Go.”

He sat back down in his original spot after jerking the door to the cabin open for Neil, watching the flash of red fur disappear into the dark woods, feeling imaginary wind rustle through imaginary fur on his face.

Neil returned, after a while, blood on his muzzle and the after-imagines of a squirrel in Andrew’s head. He laid his head on Andrew’s legs, still stretched out as Andrew leaned against the same wall, paperback book in his hand and cup of coffee steaming against his leg.

_ Home, key, home, Andrew_, Neil sang into the bond, and Andrew pulled on his ear.

“Shut up, pipedream,” he said, flipping a page with his thumb.

It was silent, except for the rustle of Andrew’s pages and the occasional gentle click of his cup against the floor, the deep breaths of Neil against his legs. Andrew dropped a hand into his fur, after a while, fingers digging deep into the thick red, and Neil rumbled in contentment.

_ Andrew_, Neil whispered into his head, _ Andrew Andrew Andrew_.

Andrew tightened his grip in response, closed his eyes, and sang back _ Abram Abram Abram_.


	9. There Is A Certain Taste To It

“Neil, you’re making a mess,” Kevin snapped, flicking his fingers at Neil’s half of the kitchen island, leaning back against the sink across from it. “Can’t you even stop dripping on the floor? It’s disgusting, it’s like you never learned how to eat, it’s like–”

“Kevin,” Andrew said, bored, watching as Neil refused to even look up, “Shut up. He’s not even listening.”

Neil was, but he didn’t pay any attention to the others, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand instead. He dropped his hand to his side, ignoring Kevin’s muttering about _ those are hardwood, it’s going to stain_, and stared at the plate in front of him.

In a small, quiet part of his brain there was an endless whisper, a never-ceasing voice that chanted _ this is wrong, this is wrong, this isn’t who you are, this is wrong_, but it was quickly overtaken by the satisfied feeling curling around in his gut.

Andrew’s hand entered his field of vision, finger dipping into the gore on the plate, and pulling away a dark maroon. Neil finally tore his gaze away, instead choosing to watch Andrew as he carelessly licked his fingers clean. 

“Pig blood isn’t going to keep you full, but it’ll do since you’re convinced not to touch humans,” Kevin supplied from Andrew’s elbow. “There is a certain taste to it, though.”

“No humans,” Neil muttered automatically, elongated fangs biting into his lower lip accidentally. He winced, reaching up to poke at them gingerly, frowning when Andrew smirked. “I’m not used to them.”

“You will be,” Kevin once again cut in, ignoring the annoyed look Andrew shot him. “I’m surprised you’re not dust already, since we found you locked in that room, starving–”

Neil waved his hand, lips curling into a faint smile as blood splattered across Kevin’s shirt. “Kevin, shut up.”

Kevin whirled on his heel, throwing his hands up in either a _ why do I even bother _ or _ why me _ gesture, and left the kitchen, stomping off to god-knows-where.

“So,” Andrew said, voice low and dark, “What was the idea. Kill yourself by starvation? Hope that no idiot decided to investigate why exactly there was shrieking in the abandoned factory on the edge of town? Hope that no humans decided to break in and explore?”

Neil stared down at the slab of pig on the plate, fingers digging into the fleshy part of his palm.

_ It was his mom, he knew it was through the fire that spread through his veins, had dragged herself and him to that factory, had held his fever-stricken face between her hands and told him “You must never eat humans, never, not even when starving Nathaniel, never” and then had closed her eyes and gone silent while he felt his heart stop but he was still moving and he was hungry, he was oh-so hungry and did she count as a human if she died in the transformation but there were the sounds of his father’s men barricading the door and windows and he was trapped and then he was crying without tears and his face was buried in her neck and he opened his mouth and she was dead and his fangs dug into her neck– _

“No,” Neil said quietly, “that wasn’t the idea.”

Andrew pried no more after that, lighting a cigarette and looking out the wide-open window of the cabin, blowing clouds of smoke up into the sky. If Neil hadn’t smelled the _ otherness _ that lingered underneath the scent of Andrew’s detergent and hair and skin, he would have thought that he was human.

“Kevin said that you weren’t a vampire, so why do you smell like me?” Kevin had been very talkative, after he had kicked down the door to find Neil at his throat.

“I’m not a vampire.” More smoke, this time directly in Neil’s too-sensitive nose. “Try again, bloodsucker.”

Neil frowned, inhaling deeply. Underneath the scent of the pig, there was still the smell of shampoo, soap, detergent… And something that didn’t smell right. Something that made the hair on the back of Neil’s neck stand up, and he fought hard to resist the urge to take a step back.

_ Danger, danger, danger_, screamed Neil’s body, though he still didn’t know what Andrew was. 

“Fairy?” He hedged, knowing it was the wrong guess, but it was worth it to see Andrew’s hands clench in irritation. “Selkie?”

Andrew turned, eyes gleaming yellow, and smiled. It was sharp, dangerous, and this time Neil took that step back. “Wrong, bloodsucker.”

_ Wolf_, Neil’s instincts chanted. _ Wolf, wolf, wolf. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for vampires and werewolves and all that jazz...


	10. Listen, I Can't Explain It, You'll Have To Trust Me

Neil stumbled out of the alley, and took a deep breath.

The scent of magic, the burning of ozone filled his nose, and he took off running, shoes pounding on the empty sidewalk. It was too early, far too early, but maybe that was a good thing. Less witnesses, less to clean up later, less potential victims that his father’s people would hunt down and kill because of something they might have seen.

There was a howl behind him, and Neil felt his blood run cold.

It was all he could do to swipe his bloody hand along the wall as he ducked between two abandoned buildings, breath hitching as he cast. _ Silence, safety, protection _ he willed into the small symbol, and relaxed as he felt the magic settle on his shoulders and between the walls. Wolves had sharp noses, but the scent of Neil that flooded down the alley and into the city should keep them busy for a while, a hundred different ghosts of him running in a hundred different directions, laying false trails while he stood stock-still in the darkness.

Dark shapes rushed past, lean wolves with bright yellow eyes, and Neil relaxed as they didn’t even pause. 

“So you’re the one leaking magic everywhere.”

Neil spun, hands flying out, only to meet the business end of something stiff and he went down hard, all the breath knocked out of his lungs. He wheezed pathetically, an involuntary choking noise slipping past his lips as the blond man holding a racquet stared down impassively. 

“I suggest you don’t try and run,” the man said, spinning the racquet in his hands, face blank. “Who are you, and why are you bringing wolves into our territory?”

Neil opened his mouth, and froze as a menacing snarl echoed down the alley. He turned, fingers scrabbling against the asphalt of the alley and he was too late, teeth were coming at him and the wolf was closing her jaw around his neck—

There was a sharp _ crack _ and the wolf howled in pain, head rocking back from the swing of the stranger’s racquet, and the blond man stepped over Neil to stand between him and the werewolf. He was still impassive, shoulders relaxed but knuckles white on the stick he held.

“I suggest you go hunt elsewhere,” he said, slamming the end of the racquet against the ground to punctuate his sentence.

The wolf shot a baleful glare, snarling low in its throat, but turned to give Neil an oddly-human grin, teeth gleaming against the faint sun that pierced through the darkness of the alley.

_ I’ll come back later, Junior_, Lola whispered into his head, and then she was gone with a sweep of her tail.

The stranger looked down at Neil, racquet spinning in his hands once again. “Well?”

“Andrew!”

The man—Andrew—turned towards the entrance of the alley, towards another man that jogged closer. “What, Kevin.”

Kevin, the newcomer, took a glance at Neil before visibly writing him off, wrinkling his nose at Neil’s bloodstained clothes and his still-bleeding palm. “The pack’s gone, did you figure out what they were looking for?”

Andrew inclined his head towards Neil, tossing the racquet back to the dumpster beside them, brushing his hands off casually. “Him. Can’t you smell the magic?”

Neil refused to meet Kevin’s inquisitive gaze, standing up and brushing his palms against the back of his jeans. “Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask the same thing,” Neil shot back, instinctively stepping back when Andrew took a step towards him. 

“That’s not how this works,” Andrew said, tone just as bored as before. “You don’t get to run through our city and bring a pack of flea-infested werewolves with you while leaking magic like you don’t know anything within a five hundred mile radius won’t hunt you down, witch.” He flicked his fingers dismissively at Kevin before spinning on his heel and heading towards the mouth of the alleyway. “Kevin, knock some sense into him before I do.”

Neil looked after him before turning to Kevin, trying to keep the annoyance off of his face. “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.”

Kevin leveled an even look at him, before turning to follow after Andrew. “We don’t have to do anything. You’d better stop bleeding before you draw them back,” he called, and then he was gone.

Neil looked after him, fingers balling into a fist. What was the point of saving him, if they were just going to act cryptic and leave? He shook his head, inhaling deeply, and paused as he picked up something that had been hidden when Lola had appeared.

Neil frowned, fingering the sleeve of his ragged jean jacket, looking after the two strangers. _ Vampires_, his brain whispered, and he pressed his lips together. 

Vampires were a whole different problem than his father’s pack, but potentially a lot easier to deal with, at least for the meantime. Neil wasn’t planning to stay, not for long, but perhaps two vampires could find use with a roaming witch while he tried to figure out how to deal with his father’s pack.

Gritting his teeth, Neil followed after them.


	11. It’s Not Always Like This

“Breathe, Abram.”

_ He was drowning, and there was his mother, smiling and laughing and alive again, hands held out but when Neil reached to take them she was gone, screaming and the scent of her blood filled his nose— _

Laughter bubbled up past his lips, spilling hysterically out into the silent room, and Andrew growled low in his throat when Matt made an aborted motion towards Neil. The rest of the Palmetto State pack bristled, but no one else made a move towards where Neil crouched in the middle of the chalk-drawn circle.

Allison look stricken, face white against the dark kohl of her eyeliner, and Dan had her hands balled into fists on top of her knees where she sat by the door, eyes watchful. Aaron looked bored, but his fingers twitched against the hardwood floor, betraying his unaffected expression. Kevin paced, unable to stay still.

Andrew watched them all silently, making sure that they obeyed his unspoken command, before turning his attention back to Neil, crouched at his feet. He bent, squatting close but just far away not to touch, and he passed his hand in front of Neil’s face. 

“Nathaniel.”

_ His father was in front of him, smile plastered on his face, and then there were knives in Neil, knives everywhere and oh it hurt so much he was breaking apart and being put back together endlessly, why wouldn’t it stop, make it stop— _

“Andrew,” Wymack snapped, “Stop him!”

“No,” Kevin barked, finally coming as close to the circle as he dared, eyes shimmering as magic whipped his hair like a breeze. “It’s almost done, he’s almost done it, we _ need _this to work!”

Andrew shot Kevin a look, then turned back to Neil. “Neil,” he said again, right as Neil dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes and the magic snapped into place.

Renee was the first to get up, all of the Foxes floored on their stomachs from the force of Neil’s spell, and flexed her fingers while looking at her hands. “I think,” she said quietly, “That it is done, and that we should leave.”

The rest of the Foxes filed out the door, Matt shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, Nicky muttering something about his fingers tingling, Kevin trailing behind everyone and giving Andrew an inscrutable look that Andrew pointedly ignored.

Instead, Andrew watched as Neil’s eyelids fluttered, and turned to wipe away the white chalk that had formed the casting circle.

“It’s not always like this,” Neil said, voice hoarse as he sat up. Andrew looked at him blankly, before turning and continuing his work. Neil watched, eyes half-closed, and let him, breathing slowly as the magic seeped into the ground.

Andrew finally turned to him, brushing chalk onto his black pants, leaving ghost-white streaks. “Then what is it like, Josten, because it seems every time you fucking open your mouth, this is what happens.” His voice was level, oh so flat, and Neil knew that he was angry.

“It’s not,” he said again, closing his eyes completely and rolling to lay flat on his back, feeling sweat slide down his forehead. “Besides, it worked.”

Andrew stared at him for a long, hard second, before lightly kicking Neil’s left leg. “Yes, it worked, Josten. This time you collapse. Next time you choke up blood? Time after that you drop dead?” His voice was poisonous, sharp and dangerous. “I don’t give a shit what Kevin asked you to do. I don’t give a shit what Kevin _ will _ ask you to do. You will say no. And then I will say no for you.”

“It was for the good of the pack.”

“If it was for the good of the pack would you jump off the roof, Josten?”

Neil opened his eyes, finally looking up into Andrew’s, hovering just a foot above his own head. He smiled, just slightly, raising his hand up and carefully, gently, cradling Andrew’s cheek when the other man gave a tense nod. “It needed to be done, Andrew.”

Andrew scoffed, face warm under Neil’s fingers, eyes flashing a dangerous gold. “I hope it was fucking worth it.”

Closing his eyes again, Neil smiled again. He felt Dan’s worry, Allison’s irritation towards Andrew, Renee’s calm in a sea of the other Foxes’ rambling emotions. Matt was making coffee, Nicky already pulling out the vodka, and Kevin was making even more plans for how to deal with Riko’s pack when they came. Wymack was still there, talking to Aaron in a low voice.

“It was,” Neil said finally.


	12. What If I Don't See It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a total sucker for red string of fate AUs...

“But what if I don’t see it?” Nathaniel asked, fingers gripping the comforter as he looked at his mother, framed in the doorway. She loosely held the book of fairy tales in her fingers, and she glanced down the hallway to make sure her husband wasn’t around before moving to sit beside Nathaniel, shutting the door tightly behind her.

It would do no good for Nathan to find them, not with this book in particular.

“You will,” Mary said, lips pressed together as she studied Nathaniel. There was a fresh bruise under his eye, and the faint criss-cross of knife slices on his cheek. “Everyone sees it, Nathaniel. I saw it, and you will too.”

Nathaniel looked doubtful, lips pursed in an imitation of Mary’s own, and she gently twisted a lock of his hair around her finger. Nathaniel was too much like her, too much Hatford and not enough Wesninski. The fact that she kept entertaining that difference was even more dangerous.

“Are you really connected to Dad?”

Mary thought about lying, of letting the age-old non-truth slip past her lips, but instead she shook her head. “I broke my string long ago, Nathaniel. Nathan did too. It was for the best, at the time.”

She liked to think that it had been, all those years ago. Before Nathan stopped pretending, before he started raising his fists, and then his knives, first towards her and then towards Nathaniel. But in reality, she knew. She had been given a soulmate for a reason, and she had thrown it away, rankled by the idea that something had control over her life, and now she was paying the price. Nathaniel too.

Nathan, though, she wasn’t sure ever had a soulmate. That had seemed too cruel, even for fate.

Nathaniel stared at her, like he could see into her thoughts, and Mary suppressed a shudder at how much he resembled Nathan. Auburn hair, icy blue eyes that seemed to stare into her soul, to uncover all the half-truths and lies that she told. “What if I don’t like who my string is attached to,” he asked, childishly, fingers digging into the blankets. “I don’t want to have a soulmate.”

“You can’t rely on them,” Mary agreed, resting a hand atop Nathaniel’s head. “You have to look out for yourself. Trust no one, not even your soulmate, no one except me. Understand?” It was their ritual, the promise that Mary made him repeat every night before bed.

“I know, Mom. No one but you,” Nathaniel parroted back, but Mary saw the way his eyes darted towards the pinky finger of his left hand, and she felt the ghost of her own, long gone.

It was a problem that would have to be shelved for later, though. “Goodnight, Nathaniel.”

“Night, Mom.”

Mary left, the book of stories hidden against the small of her back in the waistband of her pants as she headed down the hall. She nodded at Nathan’s people as she passed, face carefully blank.

As she passed by Nathan’s study, she began to plan.


	13. I Never Knew It Could Be This Way

With the wind in his hair, Neil closed his eyes.

From the driver’s seat, Matt turned the volume up on the radio, while Dan hummed along to the pop song from the middle. Allison yelled something from the bed of the truck, wind ripping her voice away, and Renee laughed from beside her.

Andrew was following them, Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron packed into the GS with him, but Neil felt comfortable in Matt’s truck, sun on his face, the wind from the open window brushing against his scars. Dan was warm against his side, and Neil didn’t even feel the familiar sensation of his skin crawling that happened whenever anyone touched him. 

Allison yelled something again, snatches of words sailing through the open pane on the back windshield of the truck. “–there!”

Neil twisted in his seat, impatiently tugging on his seatbelt, to shoot Renee a questioning look. 

Renee smiled, leaning into the cab of the truck to translate while Allison held up the map on her phone. “We’re almost there,” she reported, brushing a few stray strands of her undercut away from her face. “It should be the next right, and then the first left that you can make, Matt.”

Allison pulled her back, laughing loudly as Renee tumbled into her arms, and Neil rolled his eyes before glancing in the side mirror, lips curling into a half-smile as he spotted the Maserati not that far behind him. Dan sighed, muttering something about recklessness under her breath, and Matt dropped his hand to rest on his girlfriend’s thigh.

_ “Neil will ride with us,” Andrew said, lit cigarette in between his fingers. The rest of the Foxes had looked at him, all piled into Kevin’s room with food and alcohol, a map of Blue Ridge spread between them. _

_ Neil looked at him too, then at Dan and Matt, then Kevin and Aaron. “Actually, I can ride with Matt,” he said, fingers curling up to rub against the edges of the wristbands on his arms.  _

_ Andrew had given him a blank look, before taking a long drag of his cigarette. The room was silent as he breathed out, a cloud right into Neil’s face. “Whichever.” _

_ Allison had shot him a shark-like grin, nails tapping against the screen of her phone. Dan, expressions clearly readable on her face, had struggled between surprise and happiness. “Of course,” she said, like there had been any question about it. _

The cabin was big, bigger than Neil had expected, and he looked up at it as the others ran ahead, Matt carrying Dan over his shoulder, Allison with her arm looped through Renee’s. Andrew pulled behind Matt’s truck, car almost rattling with the bass of whatever was playing, and Nicky tumbled out from the back seat first, Aaron following close behind.

Nicky gave Neil a toothy grin as they sprinted to catch up with the others, Kevin extracting himself from the passenger seat to follow behind, albeit more slowly. Andrew remained in the car, though, and after a second Neil slid into the abandoned passenger seat, tugging the door shut behind him.

Andrew was smoking again, staring ahead, but didn’t protest when Neil lowered the volume of the stereo to barely noticeable. Instead, he let out a stream of smoke, directly into the windshield, before leveling a steady look Neil’s way. “What, Josten.”

“I never knew it could be this way,” Neil said, opening the glove box to take a cigarette from Andrew’s pack. He held out his hand for the lighter, and after a second Andrew dropped one into his waiting palm. “It’s… different.”

Andrew resumed smoking after a pause, and didn’t ask for clarification. He didn’t have to. After a while, he turned off the car, reaching back to grab a bag from the floorboards behind Neil’s seat. “Out of the car, Josten,” he said, getting out himself and flicking his cigarette butt on the ground.

Neil followed Andrew towards the cabin, already hearing the other Foxes inside before they had even crossed the threshold. Allison was ordering Nicky and Aaron around in the kitchen, while Renee and Dan discussed sleeping arrangements in the huge great room, Matt tinkering with the fireplace even though it was nowhere near cold enough for a fire. Kevin stood in the middle, looking lost, and Andrew ignored him to head for the stairs, starting up them without looking to see if Neil was following.

He went up after Andrew anyway, watching amusedly as he kicked open the first door he saw, throwing his bag onto the bed inside. “Andrew,” he began, closing his mouth after Andrew turned to him.

“You don’t have to explain,” Andrew told him, eyes intense and face blank. “I don’t care.”

Neil heard what Andrew didn’t say, the unspoken meaning that softened his harsh words.  _ You can do what you want. No one controls you. Not me. No one.  _

So he smiled instead, setting his bag down by the door and reaching out towards Andrew. He didn’t move closer though, allowing Andrew to take the steps forward into his arms, and leaned his forward against the shorter blond's. “I think I like the mountains,” Neil commented, closing his eyes.

Andrew made a noncommittal noise, fingers reaching up to lightly brush against Neil’s back. “There’s no court here,” he eventually said. “You wouldn’t be able to take it.”

Neil laughed softly, humming in agreement.

They stood there, in the middle of the room, and the silence was comfortable. Neil didn’t feel the need to explain, and Andrew didn’t press for anything more than Neil was willing to give.


	14. I Can't Come Back

Neil clenched his fists tightly, and refused to look Dan in the eyes. “I can’t come back,” he said, feeling the heat of her stare rest on the bandages on his cheek. “I’m sorry, Dan.”

Allison scoffed from her position by the door, leaning back with her arms crossed. “You can,” she said, voice sharp like brittle glass. “If you fight for us, you can.”

Neil didn’t have to look up to know that Nicky was nodding enthusiastically from the bed. He didn’t have to lift his eyes to know that Renee was watching him like a hawk, barely-concealed anger lurking behind the surface of her calm eyes. He felt Aaron’s fake apathy from the twin bed in the corner, and he knew that Matt had his fists clenched with rage.

He appreciated it, he did, but he was just so tired of fighting. His body ached, his brain felt like mush, and the last thing that he wanted to think about was the fact that Andrew was in front of him, face blank, hands heavy on the back of his neck.

The rest of the Foxes were loud even when they were being silent, emotions unable to be contained, and Neil closed his eyes. “I can’t,” he repeated again, and felt the mood of the room drop.

“You will,” Andrew replied, raising a hand to cut Allison off. “You can, and you will. Do you want to stay?” 

Neil opened his eyes again, looking straight into Andrew’s own. “I want to stay,” he whispered, and Andrew smiled, sharp and feral.

“Then you will,” he said, like it was that simple. That easy. “You will stay with us.”

Wymack was nodding from the doorway. “You’re a fox, Josten, and you will always be one if we have anything to say about it.”

It was Kevin that Neil looked at, though, Kevin, who was sitting in the windowsill, a deep ring of bruises about his neck. Kevin, who was looking anywhere but Neil. Kevin, who finally opened his mouth to speak for the first time since the FBI had opened the door.

“We don’t stand a chance against the Ravens without you,” is what came out, and Neil wanted to hit him. Allison reached him first, punching Kevin’s shoulder with enough force that Kevin winced.

“What he means,” Allison said, turning to Neil with her hands on her hips, “Is that we’ve spent our entire lives fighting. All of us, not just you. What’s fighting for one more fucked up reject?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, darkened bruise on her cheek stark against her perfect makeup. “You’re a fox,” she echoed Wymack.

Dan was nodding, along with Matt, and Neil closed his eyes once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short, but I just love the scene where Neil comes back from the FBI... The foxes gathering and protecting their own, teeth bared, even towards FBI? *chef kiss*


	15. That's What I'm Talking About

The goal lit up red, and Kevin raised his racquet in his left hand, victorious.

The crowd screamed, Ravens fans in shock, Foxes in delight. Camera lenses flashed under the stadium lights, and Neil could practically feel the thousand eyes resting on Kevin Day, at his peak once again.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Matt was yelling from up the court, while Dan grinned, feral, at the Ravens that crowded against the glass of the court, eyes wide behind their masks. 

Neil took his eyes off Johnson for the two seconds it took to wheel towards Riko, to take in the rage on the other man’s face, and felt a crack against his shoulder as a body slammed into him from behind.

Whistles were blaring, but Andrew got there first, crossing the ten feet from his goal to where Neil laid like it was nothing, gloves thrown behind him with his forgotten racquet and hand already around the offending backliner’s neck. Andrew shoved Johnson against the wall, knuckles white, and Neil saw the rest of the court dissolve into chaos as the Foxes and the Ravens both started towards Neil and Andrew, and then turned on each other.

Neil’s shoulder was screaming, even underneath his protective gear, but he forced himself up on his hands and knees, teeth gritted in pain. “Andrew,” he said, watching as the blond stiffened just a little at his voice. “It’s not worth it, and I’m fine. Let him go.”

The refs were held up by Allison and her Raven mark, but they were almost there, red cards in their hands, and Andrew shot Neil a withering look over his shoulder. He finally dropped Johnson into a pile on the ground and brushed against Neil on his way back to the goal, hand raised to wave off the oncoming refs.

Johnson was booted from the game, a decision that was met with cheers from the orange side of the court, and hisses from the Ravens. Andrew was given a yellow, which he ignored completely, shoving his gloves back onto his hands while Neil rotated his shoulder.

Kevin was watching him, eyes narrowed, and Neil shook his head. Instead, he picked up his racquet again, stance low as he went in for the penalty, the goal behind the Ravens’ goalie lighting up red just a second before her racquet could cover the upper right corner Neil had aimed at.

Matt whooped, waving his stick in the air as they reset the court, Kevin once again facing Riko, face hardened underneath his face mask, racquet once again in his right hand. It had been enough, though, that one goal slipping past the Raven backliner, all from a flick of Kevin’s right wrist; Riko looked unhinged, eyes wide, knuckles white on his racquet.

Neil could almost taste it, Palmetto’s victory. It was there at his back with Andrew in the goal, and it was in front of him as Kevin swiped the ball away from Riko and sprinted up the court, yelling his name. It was there as Neil and Kevin lit up the goal and as Andrew shut their own down.

It was there when the game clock ran out, and the scoreboard was in the Foxes favor.


	16. Listen. No, Really Listen

Sitting on the roof of Fox Tower, Neil took a deep breath, icy air ripping through his lungs.

It was cold, the threat of snow lingering in the dark grey clouds above. Neil held the cigarette in his ungloved right hand, hiding the flame from the wind with his left. It was almost dark, the sun low on the horizon, and Neil shuddered as a breeze ghosted over the roof, slicing through the thick jacket that he had unwillingly bundled up in, borrowed from Matt.

There was a creak as the door to his hiding spot was unceremoniously kicked open, Andrew looking practically murderous as he dropped to sit beside Neil, hand already open impatiently for his stolen pack of cigarettes. Neil smiled, just slightly, behind his scarf before handing the pack over, producing a lighter from one of the many pockets that Matt’s jacket had.

The silence was comfortable, Neil looking over the edge of the roof while his cigarette burned low, Andrew inhaling smoke like his life depended on it. Andrew was obviously in no mood to talk, and Neil wasn’t in the mood to make him. Instead, he looked up at the clouds. The weather hadn’t mentioned snow that morning, but Neil knew enough that from the look of it they would get some before the night ended.

Andrew shuddered at the next gust of wind, wearing only his usual thin black t-shirt, armbands, and dark jeans. Neil raised an eyebrow at him, only to have Andrew shove his hand in his face before Neil could open his mouth. “Mouth shut, junkie,” Andrew said, voice just slightly hoarse from breathing the cold air. “Why are you up here.”

“Listen,” Neil said, shaking his head impatiently when Andrew opened his mouth to interrupt, “No, really listen.”

Surprisingly Andrew did, eyebrows pulled together as he looked over the edge of the building, head cocked to the side.

It was coming from across the field that lay in front of Fox tower, the faint sound of a violin wailing in the encroaching darkness. Andrew raised his eyebrows before his face fell blank, listening intently. It wasn’t a song that Neil knew but it was still pretty, sound resonating across the empty grass. 

They were silent as the violin continued, Andrew finally stubbing his cigarette on the ground beside him, arms crossing against the cold. Neil laid down on his back, arms spread to the side, just barely brushing against the leg of Andrew’s jeans. 

After a few minutes the song ended and the out of sight violinist didn’t resume. Andrew’s face was blank as he turned to Neil, breath coming out in a cloud as he asked “Is that why you always disappear up here around this time?”

Neil nodded as he sat up, getting to his feet while he brushed rocks and dirt from the back of his jeans. “They’re out there every night,” he said by way of explanation, motioning towards the door as Andrew stood up beside him. He had heard the unseen violinist for the first time about a month ago, and had been making a point to visit the roof ever since.

Andrew took the lead down the stairs, leading the way back to their shared room with gooseflesh still on his arms. He didn’t say anything, even as Neil offered Matt’s jacket out to him, choosing instead to gather up the fleece blankets Nicky had taken to collecting from his room as they passed by.

Neil made hot chocolate while Andrew set up the common room, laptop with the title screen for  _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ playing on a loop set on the beat up coffee table. Andrew was bundled in most of the blankets by the time Neil brought the two cups to the living room, the lone blanket patterned with PSU’s emblem set aside for Neil to use.

“Do you think we could make requests, through a megaphone or something?” Neil asked, settling into the couch with the blanket pulled across his lap while Andrew hit ‘play’ on the video menu. 

Andrew seemed to consider that for a minute, watching as the laptop screen went dark before the opening scene began to play. “Any requests that you have to make?”

“This soundtrack is nice,” Neil murmured, sipping his hot chocolate while Andrew hummed in response.

Fox Tower was quiet, the rest of the team off somewhere else, and Neil was content sitting on the couch, side pressed against the huddle of blankets that encased Andrew. The room was dark and quiet and safe from the wind that rattled the windows, and Andrew put down his empty cup to shook Neil a look.

“Yes or no?”

“It’s always yes, if it’s you,” Neil reminded him, laughter hidden by the rough press of Andrew’s lips against his own.


	17. There Is Just Something About Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some Renee and Allison!

“What do you think about Neil Josten?”

Allison looked up from her salad, fingers stilling on her phone as she assessed the woman across from her. Renee didn’t usually hide from Allison, but this time she refused to meet her eyes, instead taking a sip of her water and looking out of the window beside them.

Allison pressed her lips together, thinking, as she tapped her thumbnail thoughtfully on her phone. “I think,” she began, eyes narrowing as she spoke, “That he’s hiding something.”

There was a ghost of a smile on Renee’s face as she watched a cat meander down the alley beside their restaurant. “Is that all?”

“He’s a good striker.” Allison popped a crouton in her mouth, swirling her lettuce in the ranch dressing. “Why?”

“There’s just something about him. I think that there’s more than he’s letting on. I just can’t figure it out right this second,” Renee replied, finally turning her attention to the plate in front of her, delicately cutting the slice of pizza with a knife and fork while ignoring Allison’s disgusted look. 

“Something like the gang stuff you used to hide?” Allison waved her fork in the air at Renee’s reproachful look. “What? I thought we were being candid at these dinners, Walker.”

Sighing, Renee tucked a rainbow-dyed strand of hair behind her ear, frowning at her food. “Potentially. I don’t think he’s going to cause trouble for the Foxes, I just worry about him.”

“I’m sure he appreciates it,” Allison responded dryly. Josten, in her unbiased opinion, seemed like the type to tell Renee to take her worry and shove it. 

Allison paid the check, waving off Renee’s debit card with an offended hand. It wasn’t until the two were outside, walking back towards campus that Allison spoke again.

“He’s sharp,” she began, gently tugging Renee out the way of a biker coming up the sidewalk from behind, who ignored her middle finger. “And he’s trouble. He  _ is _ hiding something, that much is obvious, and he’s getting too close to the Monsters for my personal liking.”

Renee made a face at that, but motioned her to continue.

“I think he’s smart, and he’s careful. He won’t appreciate you interfering, Renee. He’s dangerous.” Allison wasn’t from the world that Renee was, or from the world of the Monsters. But she had been with all of them long enough to recognize when someone else was.

They changed topics then, Allison complaining about her English professor while Renee quietly commiserated, longingly mentioning that at least next semester they were both done with the requisite courses. It was dark by the time they made it back to Fox Tower, and Allison held the door open for Renee to go first.

Instead of heading towards the elevator, Renee inclined her head towards the stairs, and smiled when Allison nodded her consent.

The basement was well-lit, and Allison stripped off her jacket and set her handbag beside the door, watching as Renee did the same. She held her hands out for Renee to tape, and then did the same for her teammate.

Renee was already in position, crouched low and arms up, and Allison took the invitation to attack first, throwing a right hook just how Renee taught her.

Allison didn’t last long before she tapped out, throwing up a hand to stop Renee’s fist heading for her cheek, panting as sweat dripped down her forehead. “Enough, you’re almost as much of a monster as the real ones,” she panted, squatting low and wiping off her face with her shirt.

“You’re getting better, though,” Renee told her kindly, offering a hand to help Allison up to her feet. “That was longer than last week, have you been practicing without me?”

Allison thought about her weekly Wednesday kickboxing class, disguised to the team as her ‘salon appointment’, and smiled. “Absolutely not.”


	18. Secrets? I Love Secrets

“_I think that he’s hiding something,_” Nicky said, German accent smooth and cultured, and Neil felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

Aaron hummed his agreement as he examined the calluses on his fingers from his racquet. “_I think he is too. The question is, what, though,_” He said, words rough-sounding in his throat. Neil could tell that while he could speak the language, he wasn’t nearly as practiced as Nicky.

They were talking about him, though, and that was a problem. Neil was sure that they didn’t know he spoke German, so it had to be a coincidence. A coincidence that was useful, at least. He forced himself to not look back, pretending to be absorbed in the packet of information that Wymack had given him about the courses offered at Palmetto State University. He had until Tuesday to declare a major and if he didn’t, then he wouldn’t be allowed to play for the team.

It was hard to keep a straight face, though, when Andrew chimed in, voice flat and uncaring. “_I__t doesn’t matter what it is. We’ll figure it out._”

There was a threat there, Neil would have been able to tell just from Andrew’s tone if he didn’t know German in the first place. He glanced over his shoulder, immediately looking away when Andrew met his eyes. Neil thought about the binder hidden in his mattress, inside a cut Neil had made when Seth and Matt had both been out of the room. The door locks were easy to pick, and if someone just flipped over his mattress they would notice what Neil had done…But the Monsters wouldn’t risk anyone catching them breaking into his room.

Neil forced his fingers to relax as he looked down at the courses required for a Spanish major. It would be an easy and useful pick, for when he left Palmetto. He circled it with the pen Wymack had shoved in his hand, and wrote in the margins of the paper what courses he would be able to sign up for when the freshman time slot opened for registration. He had signed with the Foxes too late to register with the rest of the student athletes, so he would just have to hope that his introductory courses still had spots when it came time for him to pick.

It was a long run back to Fox Tower from the stadium, Neil purposefully keeping himself from breaking into a flat sprint. The last thing that he needed was Andrew becoming more suspicious of him, and that was bound to happen if he was seen running back to his room after listening in on a conversation that he wasn’t supposed to understand. There was something crawling up his throat, something that felt uncomfortably like fear, and Neil felt the urge to run, to hide, to leave PSU and South Carolina altogether because it was dangerous here, his mother was right and he should have never let exy tempt him into the open like this. Even if Kevin didn’t recognize him now, someone else was bound to, and if word got back to his father or his father’s people…

He was out of breath by the time he opened the door to his shared room, giving Matt a nod and collapsing onto his bed, sweating and shoes still on. There was the comfortable lump of his binder, hard under his shoulder but hidden by his blankets and pillows and Neil breathed a soft sigh of relief. Matt gave him a look at that, but thankfully turned back to his laptop, in the middle of using the school’s course scheduler to plan out what he wanted to take.

“You decide what you want to major in and take, Neil?” Matt finally asked after five blessedly quite minutes. Neil liked Matt, he did, but his nerves were frayed from Andrew and his family’s conversation.

“Spanish,” he finally replied, closing his eyes and crossing his hands on his chest. “I like languages, and it was pretty easy to pick up at Millport.”

Matt hummed, before shutting his laptop with a soft click. Neil heard him turn around in his chair, and reluctantly opened his eyes to look at the other man. “I think most of the team is going out for dinner. Not Andrew and his gang, but me, Dan, Allison, Renee… You, if you want.”

Dinner was a tempting thought, his stomach empty after a skipped breakfast and lunch consisting of a fruit bar and apple purloined from the common kitchen. Neil shook his head though, avoiding Matt’s disappointed look. “I’m fine,” Neil said, raising a hand as Matt opened his mouth to argue. “You go ahead and have fun, I wanted to take another run around campus anyway to see where things are.”

It was a lie, but Matt seemed content to believe it, leaving after a few minutes of sending Neil puppy eyes, and promises to bring him back something from wherever they went. Neil waited until he heard the click of the lock before he got up and flipped over his mattress, reaching into the hole he had torn to pull out his binder.

The binder was black and beat up, mysterious stains coloring the clear plastic front, but it looked untouched and Neil felt his heart rate slow. Everything seemed to be in place when he opened and flipped through the pages, passing exy articles about Kayleigh and Kevin day, about the arrest of the Butcher of Baltimore, about genius striker Riko Moriyama.

The turn of the doorknob was so quiet that Neil almost didn’t hear it. He shoved the binder underneath his comforter, turning around just in time to see Andrew open the door.

Andrew, for his part, didn’t seem too surprised to see Neil there. He walked in as if he had been invited, moving to open the window before perching on the sill, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one with deft fingers. Neil watched him silently.

It was a minute before Andrew spoke, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke in Neil’s direction. “You’re staying.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of fact, but Neil saw the flicker of curiosity in Andrew’s eyes.

“I am,” Neil agreed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, using the movement as a distraction to edge his pillow over the hidden binder. “Is that a problem that you’re going to try and solve by breaking into my room and scaring me?”

Andrew snorted, stubbing his half-smoked cigarette out on Neil’s windowsill. “No, Josten, that’s not what I’m going to do. You know what I like?” Neil blinked at the change of subject, and slowly shook his head. “Secrets. I _ love _ secrets, Josten,” Andrew said, voice dripping with malice that made Neil’s heart pick up speed. “And you seem like the type of person to have a lot of secrets.”

There was a moment of tense silence before Andrew slid to his feet, flicking the dead cigarette at Neil’s chest. “I _ will _ figure out what you’re hiding,” he said as he headed for the door, turning the knob with a flick of his wrist and disappearing down the hallway.

Five minutes passed before Neil worked up the nerve to shut his door, once again locking it. It took after five of waiting, just to see if Andrew would return, before he could pick up his binder and return it to its hiding spot in the mattress. Neil felt a lump of dread settle in his stomach, and he was sure that’s what Andrew’s goal was, make him feel unsafe in his room even with the lock on his door. Neil couldn’t figure out what he was more angry about, the fact that Andrew had picked the lock and acted like it was nothing, or the fact that Neil had let himself be rattled by such an obvious power play.

Andrew had said that he loved secrets, and that Neil had seemed like the type of person to have a lot of them, but Neil was sure that he wasn’t the only one. The question was if he could find out Andrew’s, before Andrew found his.


	19. Yes, I Admit It, You Were Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one is pretty short!

Renee was waiting for him in the basement, fingers already taped, hair pulled back into a tuft of a rainbow ponytail.

Andrew wasn’t in the mood to talk, instead choosing to strip off his jacket and slide his armbands over his hands, dropping the bundle by the door. Josten’s words were like needles under his skin, his voice repeating over and over, that cocky smile lingering in his head. Andrew motioned at Renee impatiently rather than stretching out his legs, fingers balling into loose fists at his sides.

It was only after they were done, Andrew rubbing at the bruise forming on his cheek while Renee examined her knuckles, that Andrew spoke, voice rough and out of breath.

“Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Renee shot him a look from under her eyelashes, carefully keeping her face blank. “About what, this time, Andrew?”

“He wasn’t a side effect,” Andrew ground out, angrily yanking his armbands back into place. “I’ve been off the medication for months, and it hasn’t gotten better.” Josten was still in his mind nearly all the time, his smile lingering in Andrew’s thoughts, his laugher in Andrew’s ears even when Neil wasn’t around.

Sitting down, back pressed against the wall, Renee hugged her legs close, tapping her knees thoughtfully with an index finger. “I told you that he wasn’t. Are you going to do anything about it, though?” That’s what Andrew really disliked about Renee, though most of the time he couldn’t be bothered enough to care. She knew how to get under his skin, to pressure him into thinking about things that he would rather not, like Neil.

It was easy to imagine pressing Neil against a wall, cornering him in the locker room, getting a ‘yes’ before wrapping his fingers around his wrist. Andrew could picture it all, the look in Neil’s eyes, his sharp smile on his face. The way Neil would laugh, probably, like he always did in the face of dangerous things.

“No,” he finally said, tugging his jacket on. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“Oh Andrew, why not?” Renee looked concerned now, and Andrew felt irritation rising in the back of his throat. He hadn’t come down here to have a bonus Bee session, he had come to clear his head. Renee was looking at him like she could peel back all the layers of his skin and examine all the thoughts and secrets that he kept buried underneath, and Andrew was sick of it.

He let the door slam shut behind him instead of replying, making his way to the roof with his pack of cigarettes already in his hand.


	20. You Could Talk About It, You Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think that I've ever mentioned it, but I would die for Matt Boyd. Also, let's just pretend that this is slotted somewhere after the whole shebang of The Kings Men, but before all of the seniors leave and Matt and Neil are still sharing at room. :') My timeline is messy.

Matt set the cup of earl grey tea down in front of Neil, sat beside him, and waited.

He didn’t particularly like the fact that he was used to this, that he knew what to do when Neil woke up and stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. When he didn’t start getting ready for class, even after his warning alarm started ringing. When Matt said his name and Neil refused to answer.

Sometimes, Neil woke up in the morning and everything was fine. He was Neil Josten, striker for the Palmetto Foxes, Matt’s room mate and friend. Sometimes, though, Neil woke up and he was none of those things, face blank and emotions tucked far away inside a place Matt couldn’t reach. 

It was always difficult, when Neil was like that. Matt couldn’t really _ do _ anything, but Neil had grabbed his wrist the first time and whispered not to tell Andrew and Matt would much rather die than betray Neil’s fragile trust. So he always did the next best thing to calling Andrew that he could, bundling his friend in five different blankets and sitting him in the small kitchen shared between the floor after making sure Minyard had left for classes. Neil liked tea, Matt knew that from the ever-appearing boxes that appeared on Neil’s desk in their room, usually scrawled with some message in a sharp hand, and so that is what Matt always made him.

“You could talk about it, you know that, right?” Neil lifted his eyes for the first time since he woke up to look at Matt, who smiled encouragingly. “I don’t… I won’t understand everything that you’ve gone through. I can’t, really, but I can always listen, Neil. Sometimes that just helps, you know?”

Neil was still looking at him, eyes carefully blank, but this time at least Matt could see tiny cracks in Neil’s facade. They were in the way his eyebrows drew together just slightly, creating a wrinkle that Matt wanted to smooth out with his thumb. After a minute, though, Neil nodded and picked up his now-cool tea to take a small, careful sip.

That was progress, something that Matt would take home as a win. His fingers itched to text Dan about the improvement, but he forced himself to stay at the table and drink his coffee, chattering on about his classes while Neil silently listened (or not, Matt could never really tell when he was in this state, but he figured the voice of another, friendly person was something that always helped).

He had just started moaning about his upcoming midterm in chemistry when Neil opened his mouth. Matt immediately shut up, masking it with a deep breath and a sip of coffee, just in case Neil was spooked by the idea of interrupting.

“Sometimes,” Neil started, then swallowed hard. Matt could almost see his brain working, and took another sip of coffee before nodding Neil along. “Sometimes I wake up, and Lola is there.”

Matt frowned, setting down his mug to tap the table in front of Neil, getting his attention. “Like, she’s in the room? You see her in the room?” He didn’t think that there had been anything in their room that could have been mistaken for a person, but maybe he didn’t consider a jacket slung over the closet door, or what if he left his towel hanging on the doorknob and it was his fault that this was happening, because he didn’t pay enough attention–

Neil nodded, then shook his head in frustration. “No, not exactly. It’s like I can’t move, like sleep paralysis or something, and she’s just _ there_, in the corner of the room. Staring at me and smiling.” He ground his teeth, knuckles white around his cup of tea, and Matt stopped the train wreck of his thoughts to reach over and gently pry his friend’s hands open before he shattered the glass and hurt himself. “I don’t know why it happens, like yesterday was perfectly fine! I don’t know why I can’t just get over it, why I’m so–”

_ Weak_. Matt heard the word, even as Neil refused to say it. 

The silence was oppressive, hanging over them like a dark cloud. Matt didn’t know what to do; this seemed like something that Andrew would have known how to handle, but Neil didn’t want to involve him, and Matt would respect that. Neil looked blank again, almost deflated in the mass of blankets heaped around his shoulders, smaller than usual. He looked… Matt would have thought ‘vulnerable’ but that didn’t seem to fit. He looked exhausted and strung out, but there was something made of steel that lurked behind Neil’s eyes.

“I don’t think that you’re weak, Neil.” Matt held up his hand when Neil made an affronted noise. “No, listen, we both know that’s what you were going to say. And I don’t think that you believe that. I don’t believe it. You’re _ strong_, Neil. You have to be, to survive what you did. And you’re still here! You see Lola, but which one of you is dead?”

Matt counted the thoughtful look as a win, even as Neil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not weak, Neil,” he repeated quietly.

“I feel like I am,” Neil admitted, voice strained and Matt knew what it had cost him to say the words. “They’re dead but how? My uncle? There was nothing I could do but wait as someone else did all of the work.”

It was hard to keep the frustration from his voice, but Matt squashed it down because it wouldn’t help either of them if Neil though Matt he was mad at _ him_. He didn’t understand how Neil couldn’t see that he wasn’t some fragile plate made of china, he was a Fox and he was strong. But it wasn’t his job to understand, it was his job to convince Neil that he was wrong. “From what you’ve said, Neil, that’s his job. Killing people. You, on the other hand, aren’t even twenty and play exy in _ college_. I feel like there’s a world of difference between those two things, you know?”

Neil didn’t look totally convinced, looking at Matt skeptically over the rim of his cup, but at least he wasn’t emotionless and silent anymore. Matt would count that as a success. 

The clock showed eleven, which meant that Matt had missed his only class of the day, so he stretched his arms up high, cracking his back loud enough that Neil gave him an admiring glance. “Want to watch movies until someone else gets back?”

With a nod, Neil drained his tea cup, getting up to set it in the sink on his way out the door. He paused, just for a second, refusing to turn his face towards Matt. “Thanks,” he said, quickly before darting out of sight, no doubt going back to finally change out of his pajamas even though he was wearing the ones Allison had gifted, patterned with foxes and completely adorable in Matt’s opinion. 

Matt’s ego wasn’t so big that he thought that their conversation had cured Neil. He was sure that eventually, Neil would wake up and instead of wishing Matt good morning he would stare up at his ceiling with blank, unseeing eyes. It only mattered that Matt was able to draw him out of his shell, bring him back to the real world, banish imaginary Lolas.


	21. Change Is Annoyingly Difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More werewolves!

Neil opened his eyes and stared upwards at the ceiling above him.

It was still dark and silent in the room, except for the occasional snore from Kevin’s bed. Neil guessed it was somewhere around five; any later and Kevin would have already been up and complaining about something.

Andrew was silent below him, but when Neil looked over the edge of his bed Andrew’s eyes were opened and looking back at him.

_ Why are you awake_, Neil whispered through the pack bond, careful to only target Andrew lest Allison break down the door for waking her up this early. Andrew raised his eyebrows, but dutifully replied without opening his mouth.

_ You were having bad dreams, _ he replied, voice steady and calm inside Neil’s head. _ It woke me up. _

Neil winced, scrubbing a hand across his face, attempting to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, aloud this time. “I don’t remember what they were though.”

Andrew heard the lie in his voice and narrowed his eyes before sitting up, shrugging off the blankets. It took him less than a second to climb up to Neil’s bed, unceremoniously shoving Neil over to make more room for himself. 

They lay there for a minute, arms pressed together while Andrew closed his eyes and breathed steady. _ Would it help to go outside_, he asked after a while, and Neil could feel his nails lengthen against Neil’s arm.

_ Maybe_, Neil admitted softly.

Andrew shoved at him until he was getting up and out of the bed, climbing down and not bothering to grab his shoes before they left the room, leaving Kevin to snore by himself.

It was cold outside, colder than usual, and Neil shuddered more from the chill than the anticipation.

Andrew changed first, fur sprouting across his body, clothes stretching and splitting against his skin as his limbs lengthened and grew. Neil watched dispassionately before committing to the change too, allowing his body to buckle and roll and break.

Andrew was waiting for him when he was finally done, tail neatly wrapped around his paws, eyes shining like ice in the darkness. _ Run? _

Neil huffed in agreement, taking off in even strides while Andrew ran beside him.

They ended up in the middle of Bowman field across from Fox Tower, no one around to see them, all the lights off in the nearby dorms. Andrew curled himself around Neil, even if he was a little smaller, and Neil rested his muzzle gently atop Andrew’s front paws.

_ Change is annoyingly difficult _ , Andrew whispered into his head, resting his head on Neil’s. _ But they are dead, and you are not. You are Neil Josten, striker for the Palmetto Foxes, part of the Palmetto University Pack, and you are here. _

Neil growled low in his throat, gently, and Andrew nipped at his ear.


	22. We Could Have A Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short and to be honest I'm not sure what this is... vampire assassin AU? We'll go with that.

“We could have a chance,” Neil said, nails already lengthened into daggers, and Andrew shot him an irritated look.

“Put the claws away. There are too many of them,” Andrew hissed, eyes narrowed as he looked over the edge of the building at the group of men below. “Your need to get yourself staked and destroyed is getting annoying, Josten. Get it together.”

Neil had the decency to pretend to look abashed at that, and Andrew rolled his eyes before returning his attention to the men below, who were now entering the hotel. “They’re coming in. I bet they know what room we checked into, if I had to take a guess.”

“So what’s the plan, Minyard? The sun’s going to come up soon, and I don’t plan to just cook up here on this rooftop.”

Andrew rubbed a hand over his face. Nicky was a block away, Aaron closer but… “Kevin could get here fast.”

Neil scoffed at that, standing up from his crouched spot beside Andrew. “And what will he do? Cower in front of Moriyama’s men? Let them stab him in the heart with a stake and then thank them for it?” Derision dripped from Neil’s voice.

“Riko himself isn’t here. He’ll be fine.” Andrew flipped out his phone, thumb swiping quickly across the screen while Neil gave him a disapproving look. It didn’t matter what Neil thought, Kevin could do it.  _ Would _ do it. Andrew had stuck his neck out too many times for Kevin to leave them out to dry like this.

His phone beeped after a minute, and Andrew pocketed it without looking at the screen. “Ten minutes.”

“And what until then?” Neil was grinning now, lengthened canines glinting in the moonlight, and Andrew finally got up, brushing off his hands and making his way to the door to the rooftop.

“We distract them until he gets there,” he said simply, eyes glinting red now with bloodlust. “Don’t get yourself killed.”


	23. You Can't Give More Than Yourself

There was a crack of lightning and Neil knocked on the door in front of him.

The house looked abandoned, spires towering above him, windows taller than Neil blocked with dark curtains. The rain beat down on the stoop above his head, and impatiently Neil wiped away drops as they slid down his forehead. His wrist ached where he had landed wrong after his horse had thrown him and thundered away into the night, and he just desperately wanted to get the  _ fuck _ away from the wind ripping at his soaked coat.

Neil studied the oak door in front of him, intricately carved braids framing the rusted knocker, what looked like foxes in the corners. He raised his fist, ready to bang once again in the hopes that someone would answer, only to pause as the door opened itself with a loud creak.

Stepping into the hall, Neil noted that it wasn’t much warmer in the house than outside. It was completely dark, void of anyone that could have opened the door for him, and Neil twisted the knob a few times, noticing with satisfaction that the door itself didn’t stay closed; the wood was warped from age, and the bolt easily slipped free. 

Neil reached out to tug back the curtains of the nearest window, blinking away spots as lightning raced across the sky and lit up the hallway in front of him. It was old and extremely dusty, clouds of dirt rising from the musty carpet with every step he took. There were moth-eaten coats on the coat rack, and spiders scurried deeper into the umbrellas in the stand by the door.

“Is anyone here?” Neil said, voice echoing down the hall.

Nothing replied, so Neil walked forward, examining the art on the walls. The paintings were all covered with grime, but in every picture there was a fox. Neil wrinkled his nose.

There was what appeared to be a sitting room off the foyer, so Neil brushed aside the cobwebs covering the upper door frame and entered, immediately pulling back the dusty curtains to let in what little light the moon and lightning could provide. All of the furniture in the room were shrouded with white dusty cloth, and Neil swiped a finger across a mirror to examine the grime on his finger.

“Are you normally prone to breaking and entering?”

Neil spun, heart beating rapidly in his chest. The speaker was a young-looking man with clear blue eyes and the blondest hair that Neil had ever seen, almost white, and he leaned against the doorway to the sitting room, not seeming to mind that cobwebs clung to the shoulders of his dark coat. “Ah, the door had opened, it doesn’t seem to stay closed and I thought the place was abandoned,” Neil admitted sheepishly, one hand sliding to the knife that he kept tucked against the small of his back. “My horse threw me in the storm, and I was just looking for shelter.”

The man looked bored, but he moved towards Neil like water flowing in a river; smooth and deliberate. “So you thought you could come in without asking?”

“I did call out, no one answered,” Neil said, taking one step back as the man got closer. “I think I’d better leave now, though. Sorry to… Intrude.”

“You could stay.” 

The offer was unexpected, and Neil narrowed his eyes at the words. In his experience, there was always a price for such offers. Usually it was a price that he wasn’t willing to pay. “What would you want in exchange though?”

The man was right in front of him now, and Neil finally noticed how short he was. Neil wasn’t a giant himself by any means, but even he had an inch or two over the stranger. “What would you be willing to give me?”

Neil pressed his lips together in thought, hands falling to his side. It would do no good to keep a hand on his dagger, drawing suspicion. “A name in return for a name, for starters?”

He almost missed the slight tilt of the stranger’s lips, the half-smile vanishing as quickly as it had come. “Andrew,” he finally said, after a brief pause. “My name is Andrew. And yours?”

“Abram.” It wasn’t a lie, not really, but Neil had learned to be careful all of these years, to hold his name close to his heart. “What do you want in return for my stay here?”

The smirk was back, now, and Andrew cocked his head to the side as a flash of lightning lit up the room. “What would you be willing to give me?”

Another lie slipped past Neil’s lips before he could think better of the offer. “Anything.”

“You can’t give more than yourself, Abram,” Andrew said, and Neil felt a trickle of fear slide down his back as Andrew leaned closer, forcing Neil to choose between taking a step back, or leaning so far back he threatened to fall. Neil chose to lean, hand sliding up his back to his dagger. “What are you willing to give to stay? Or maybe you’d like to take your chance in the storm. You never know what’s lurking in strange, dark, abandoned houses that you find in the middle of the woods.”

Neil stiffened at the smile Andrew gave him, sharp teeth a stark white against the red of his lips. Andrew reached above Neil’s head, pressing a hand against the wall to steady himself as he leaned even further, Neil’s back twinging at the uncomfortable position. Neil glanced up, and saw that Andrew’s fingers were pointed, tipped red with something that smelled like blood.

They froze like that as a crack of thunder rattled the house. Then Neil smiled, one hand slowly reaching around to rest lightly on the chilled skin of Andrew’s neck, a movement that allowed plenty of opportunity for him to knock it away. “I think that I’d like to take my chances,” Neil said, his own fangs revealed with a curl of his lips, “with these things lurking in strange, dark houses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is heavily inspired by [this piece from claraenced over at tumblr](https://claraenced.tumblr.com/post/187762868481/it-was-a-dark-and-stormy-night-a)! Please go shower it with love, it's a wonderful artwork.


	24. Patience...Is Not Something I Am Known For

“We can’t just sit here and wait for them to come to us!”

Andrew looked up from the novel in his hands, watching as Kevin argued with Wymack angrily on the phone. It wasn’t unusual, Kevin arguing with anyone, but what was unusual was the way that his voice broke, the way that Kevin’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. 

Kevin turned his back on Andrew after he caught him staring, voice lowering as he tried to block Andrew from the conversation. “I know, but we  _ need _ him. He’s what we need if we want to survive.”

Andrew returned to his book again, already annoyed with the conversation. It was all Kevin could talk about for weeks, ever since he saw the tape that the Millport coach had mailed to Wymack. Josten this, Josten that. Andrew was sick of hearing the name, sick of seeing Josten’s face pop up across the pack bond. Kevin was bitching so much, that the other members were starting to join him on the bandwagon, too. Andrew couldn’t decide what was more irritating, hearing Kevin constantly or hearing Reynolds yell at him about it.

Wymack yelled something on the phone loud enough for Andrew to hear across the room, and Kevin winced as he rubbed his ear, chastened for once in his life. “Patience… Is not something I’m known for,” Kevin said, voice sullen, and Andrew resisted the overwhelming urge to snort in disbelief. He doubted anyone had ever thought the words ‘Kevin Day’ and ‘patience’ in the same sentence. 

By the time Kevin finally hung up the phone, Andrew had finished his novel, flipping aimlessly through the pages. Kevin shot him an angry look, one hand resting on his hip while the other shoved his phone unceremoniously into his pocket. “We need him,” he repeated, and Andrew shut his book with as much force as he could put behind such a small gesture.

“No,” he said, finally standing up. “We don’t.  _ You _ need him. The rest of us do not.”

Kevin looked affronted at that, but Andrew brushed past him, purposefully shoving their shoulders together hard enough that Kevin stumbled back from the force of it. He made his way out of the stadium, irritated that Kevin had dragged him out of Fox Tower all the way down to the court only to find Wymack wasn’t there. 

Andrew was halfway through his cigarette, sitting in the front seat of the GS by the time Kevin caught up with him. Kevin reached for the passenger seat door, and raised his eyebrows when Andrew punched the door locks in response. “Really?”

After a minute, Andrew staring straight ahead and blowing smoke out the window, Kevin moved to the rear door, sighing when Andrew unlocked the doors for him. “You’re in a fine mood,” he snipped, climbing in and sprawling across the backseat, hissing when Andrew turned to blow smoke in his face. “Why are you so against bringing Josten here?”

Andrew turned to face forward again, flicking the cigarette out the window and putting the car into ‘drive’. “It’s a gut feeling. He’s trouble.”


	25. I Could Really Eat Something

“I could really eat something, you know?”

Andrew looked up from his laptop, brow furrowed before he smoothed his face back into its expressionless norm. He still had six problems left, and only fifteen minutes remaining in which to do them, but he still shut the computer with a sound ‘click’. “That,” he said, “seems like a personal problem, Josten.”

Neil looked at him from over the edge of his bed, Spanish dictionary in one hand while he absent-mindedly twirled a pencil in his other. “It could be your problem, too.”

That was true. Andrew rubbed at his chin, still sore from where Renee had hit him with a precise right hook an hour earlier. He wasn’t particularly hungry himself, but the last time that Neil had gone out alone Andrew had ended up driving in aimless circles looking for him anyway. Neil had the unfortunate habit of shutting down when he was hunting, and it set Andrew’s teeth on edge every time he felt Neil’s presence drop from his sphere of perception.

“One hundred and two, Josten,” He finally said. Neil took it for the resigned acceptance that it was.

The air outside was crisp, the leaves on the trees bright splotches of orange and red, and Neil stretched his arms upwards as his joints popped. Andrew watched before turning his attention to the empty sidewalk. It was late November, most students hurrying towards the warmth of their dorms rather than sticking around on campus in the cold. Andrew was fine with that. It was a messy business, when there were more witnesses around.

“Any ideas?”

Neil hummed softly, tilting his head carefully to the side while he thought. “There’s always the bars.”

Andrew nodded, and let Neil lead the way downtown. It wasn’t a far walk, and he could already hear the music from Fox Tower.

People were already crowded outside the bars, laughing loudly while bouncers unenthusiastically carded the already-drunk patrons. Andrew hated to admit it, but Neil had the right idea; it would be easier to eat here than anywhere else. Everyone was too drunk to care, and it was easy to find people passed out in the alleyways beside the bars while the police presence was almost non-existent. It helped that it was close to Fox Tower if they needed to escape.

Neil flicked out his fake ID for the bouncer, looking bored as the man assessed the card and then Neil’s face, before silently handing it back and waving him and Andrew in without so much as a second glance. Another thing that Andrew hated to admit was that sometimes, being on the exy team had its perks. Not that he would ever admit that to Dan, lest she began to think that he was actually enjoying it. 

Andrew took a seat at the bar, elbows out to keep others from pressing too close against him as Neil disappeared into the crowd, disarming smile already plastered on his face. Andrew lifted a finger lazily, and turned his attention to the rest of the bar when the bartender nodded her acknowledgement. It looked to be mainly the younger students, probably pushing off their exams and studying, and Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw the group that Neil had slid into; the girls looked shell-shocked, glancing at each other before one one timidly asked Neil something.

Andrew drained his glass as the bartender slid it over, purposefully ignoring the look that Neil sent him as he signed a slip of paper for the girls, looking vaguely uncomfortable. It’s what he deserved, for not noticing the exy league patch that one of the girls had on her jean jacket; Neil still wasn’t used to the attention that he got from some of the Foxes’s fans.

The bar was steadily becoming packed, people jamming in from all sides to order at the bar as the servers stopped doing table service, and Andrew was rapidly becoming irritated. He raised two fingers for his check, and sent Neil a text as he made his way towards the exit after paying, not paying attention to the angry stares he received as he shouldered people out of his way. _ Outside. Hurry up. _

Neil showed up ten minutes later, just as Andrew was finishing his cigarette. Andrew shot him a look, and Neil raised a had to wipe blood from the corner of his mouth, at least having the decency to look sheepish. “They were too drunk so the persuasion didn’t work properly,” he said by way of explanation, “So it was kind of hard to get him outside.”

“Did you just leave him there?”

Neil looked irritated that Andrew had even asked. “Of course not,” he said. “That would have looked bad, since his friends saw him walk off with me. I brought him back to the group and said that he had gotten sick on the way to the bathroom.”

Andrew nodded, then stubbed out his cigarette in the sand holder by the doors, starting to make his way down the sidewalk. “Let’s go then, if you’re done.”


	26. You Keep Me Warm

Allison lifted her muzzle to the air, and breathed in the scent of the woods around her.

They were far from Palmetto, somewhere deep in the experimental forest that the university had grown around the nearby lake as a way to study different plant species. Allison wasn’t sure exactly where she was in relation to the rest of the pack, but she felt Dan’s glee and Matt’s happiness somewhere to her right, maybe a mile or so away. Neil, Andrew, Kevin, and Nicky were distant feelings behind her, choosing to hang back as a group near the cars while Aaron sulked at having to leave his girlfriend behind on campus.

That only left Renee, and Allison growled low in her throat as she realized that it had been a while since she had heard from the other girl, or smelled her nearby.

There was a rustling in the undergrowth beside her, and Allison sidestepped quickly as a sun-streaked pelt shot out beside her. She bared her teeth, coiled and ready to spring, but her attacker quickly spun and bowled her over in one move.

_ You’re slower today, _ Renee whispered through the bond, her teeth brushing against Allison’s throat as she kept the other wolf pinned to the ground. _ Is there something wrong? _

_ I was looking for you, _ Allison said petulantly, making sure that the rest of the pack were too distracted to focus in on their quiet conversation. _ Where the fuck were you? _

_ Just around_, Renee said breezily, wiggling her tail before hopping away, light on her paws. Allison rolled to her feet, shaking the dirt from her coat, and huffed loudly.

_ Whatever. _

Renee brushed against her apologetically. Allison felt the wave of regret rolling off of her, and apology for making her worry, but it was slightly dampened by the laughter that lingered through the bond. Allison huffed again, and took off through the trees.

The lake was still, the moon reflecting off the surface, and Allison shoved her paws deep into the sand at the edge of the water, moving back and watching the water gently wipe them away. Renee stood beside her, pressing their shoulders together, and Allison turned to rest her muzzle on the smaller wolf’s head. 

_ It’s starting to get colder, _ Renee murmured as wind gusted over the lake, causing ripples in the still water. _ Soon it might be too cold to come out as a pack. _

_ You keep me warm_, Allison told her, eyes sliding shut. _ We can come without the rest if they complain. _


	27. Can You Wait For Me

Andrew shed his gown and cap, and fell backwards onto his bed.

Neil looked at him from the top bunk, chin resting on his folded hands, while Kevin breathed out a huff. “So, you’re done.” Neil was careful to keep his voice even. It would do no good to admit how the situation was making his stomach twist into knots, how he didn’t want to think about how Andrew and Kevin were set to clear out of Fox Tower within the week.

“Seems like it,” Andrew replied, voice uncaring as he flipped open the white diploma cover, staring at the curly script that announced that he had finally earned his degree in criminal justice. He tossed it to the side.

Kevin gave him a look before gathering it up, setting both of their degrees on the desk. “Be more careful,” he said, without any heat. “Are you even packed yet, Andrew? Have you even started?”

He fell silent under the look that Andrew gave him, shutting his mouth with an audible ‘click’ and turning to grab his laptop from his desk, collapsing into a pile on his own bed.

Neil frowned at Kevin, rubbing at his chin. He and Andrew had signed into the pros under the same team, the Boston Terriers, and Kevin had already picked an apartment for them in the city. Neil had seen pictures; Andrew had left them on his open computer while he had gone to the kitchen from ice cream, taking an abnormally long time while Neil looked them over. It was cute, three bedrooms, and had lots of windows.

Andrew was watching Neil now, eyes giving away nothing. “Out with it, Josten.”

Neil shook his head, and Kevin looked up at the silence, eyes darting between the two of them before finally settling on Josten, trying to decipher something in his face. Neil hated when they did that, ganged up on him and made him seem like the unreasonable one; it was not unreasonable to feel… He wouldn’t use the word scared. Apprehensive, maybe, that both Kevin and Andrew were leaving. That soon Neil would be the only one left from the Foxes that he had joined. That he wasn’t sure that they would both move to Boston and then forget about him, all the way in South Carolina.

It was a ridiculous thought, but it made Neil’s face twist up in disgust anyway.

Kevin reacted first, shutting his laptop and putting it to the side. “You’re acting weird,” he said, awkwardly standing up before shoving his hands into his pockets. “There’s something wrong.”

“No shit, Day.” Andrew got up as well and climbed up onto Neil’s bed, shoving him over to make more room. “Spit it out, Josten. We haven’t got all day.”

Kevin looked irritated, climbing up into Neil’s bed as well, making sure not to crowd the other two. “You have no tact, Andrew.”

Neil watched them dissolve into snips and bickering. Andrew was just trying to egg Kevin on, waving his hand flippantly while Kevin became incensed over Andrew’s small jabs.

“Can you wait for me?”

Andrew and Kevin both turned to him in a comical show of pin-point mimicry. Kevin was once again the first to recover, opening his mouth while Andrew smoothed his expression blank. “What do you mean, ‘wait for you’?”

Neil wished he had shut his mouth before the words had a chance to slip past his teeth. “It’s nothing.”

“It,” Andrew said, “was not nothing. What do you mean.”

Neil wished that the bed covers would turn into a monster and just swallow him whole. “It was _ nothing_.”

Kevin was looking at him still, eyebrows drawn together while he traced the chess piece on his cheek absent-mindedly. “Of course we’ll wait for you,” he said, matter-of-fact like there had never been any alternative. “You gave your game to me. I haven’t given it back yet.”

Andrew looked first at Kevin and then at Neil before rolling his eyes in a show, declaring himself done with the conversation by shutting his eyes and leaning back onto Neil’s comforter. “Junkies.”


	28. Enough! I Heard Enough

Neil, at least, had the decency to look halfway guilty. “How much did you manage to hear?”

Allison shot him a dirty look, then gave one to Andrew and Kevin for good measure. “Enough! I heard enough. You three are  _ not _ abandoning us this weekend to go to Columbia and do god-knows-what with the rest of the monster pack. Josten, you need to rest for one day in your miserable life.”

Kevin opened his mouth, but Allison turned on him with poison before he had the chance to say a word. “Shut it, Day,” she said viciously. “I know that you all like to pretend and act like Neil is one of you, but he’s one of  _ us _ as well. And right now, we’re taking him.”

Andrew escaped her barbed words purely by being Andrew, even though he was wearing his customary bored expression, like he always did when confronted by one of the other Foxes that weren’t either his family or under his protection. Neil glanced at him, before turning his attention back to the angry woman in front of them.

Allison put her hands to her hips, bright neon green nails stark against the all-white assemble of shorts and shirt that she had put on, hair in a high ponytail that whipped in the air as she turned to Neil and narrowed her eyes. “You’re staying with Dan, Renee, Matt, and me this weekend. Suck it up.”

Neil was equal parts annoyed and amused. Maybe a little more amused, and that’s why he simply said, “Ok.” Andrew looked at him then, irritated, but he also didn’t say a word, ignoring Allison as her glare morphed into a razor-thin smile.

“Now that that’s sorted out, if you would excuse us. Neil needs to come with me to get party supplies,” Allison said, flipping her hair over her shoulder and gently taking Neil’s elbow in one smooth motion.

Because it was Allison, Neil let himself relax under her grip. Allison’s hand was warm as she steered him away, and he tossed a wave over his shoulder as she tugged him along. “What exactly are we doing tonight that we need to get supplies?” He asked.

“Mainly drinks, since Kevin drank everything we had like the fish he is,” Allison replied, jabbing the down button on the elevator before whipping her phone out, hand still resting gently on the inside of Neil’s elbow. “Renee wants some healthy vegetable chip things, and Dan wants chocolate.” Allison gave him a glance, tapping him with a sharp nail. “Anything specific, Josten?”

Neil shook his head, and Allison tugged him into the elevator. “What are we doing, though, just…”

“Hanging out, Neil. Those are the words you want. Hanging out like normal people do. Not getting kidnapped, or getting ourselves almost killed by our mafia father.” Allison had her key fob out by the time they exited the elevator, her car responding with a cheery ‘beep’ as she shoved open the doors to Fox Tower. “Movies, junk food, alcohol. Probably card games. Dan’s been mentioning poker.”

It wasn’t until they got into the car, Allison checking her makeup in the rearview that she spoke again, not meeting his eyes. “Is this alright, Josten?”

Neil only hesitated a split second before nodding, aware that Allison was looking at him out of the corner of her eyes while he looked out of his window. “It’s fine,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

“Will the monster mind?” Allison didn’t sound scared, but her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the lot. Neil turned to her then, watching how she tensed before meeting his eyes, her own defiant. “I don’t care if he does, we’re keeping you this weekend,” she said defensively, plucking a pair of sunglasses from the dashboard and putting them on.

Neil smiled, just a slight twitch of his lips, and turned back to look out of the window. “No, he won’t mind.”


	29. I'm Doing This For You

“Stop. Fucking. Moving,” Allison gritted out from her clenched teeth. She moved her head back, took a deep breath, and dipped her brush into the makeshift palette of foundation before her, going for one of the more darker shades. Josten was irritating; none of her current foundations had matched, so she had used the excuse to stop at Ulta for way too much makeup.

Neil wiggled under the cool liquid as she dabbed it on his face, careful strokes erasing the oldest of his scars. “Can’t you just heat it up or something? It’s cold.”

Allison took another deep breath. Neil had come of his own accord, shifty and quiet as he had asked, and she kept that picture of him in her mind. No matter how much she wanted to strangle him right now. “Shut _ up _ Josten. No, I can’t. So just deal with it.”

It took a few tries, and she had to mix a few different colors, but Allison finally pulled back, tilting Neil’s head gently by his chin. His face was mostly covered, the newer scars and patches still just barely visible, but overall she was pleased by her work. Grabbing a mirror from her desk beside their position on her bed, she held it up for Neil to look at. “Good?”

Neil brushed his fingers lightly over his face, frowning at the mirror. Allison waited impatiently, fingers tapping rhythmically on the mirror handle before she finally gave in exasperatedly. “What,” she asked. “Is it the color? I think it matches well. Better than what I had before, your tone is different from mine–”

“I don’t like it,” he interrupted, reaching a hand out to push down the mirror. “Can we take it off?”

Allison frowned. “Of course we can take it off, idiot, but you’re the one who–”

Neil frowned at her. “I know what I wanted. Take it off,” he said, voice hard as steel. “Please,” he added after a second, like an afterthought. 

Resigned, Allison got her makeup wipes from the bathroom, carefully wiping Neil’s face clean. They were silent once again as she worked, but this time they were tense, Neil from something unknown and Allison from not understanding. 

Neil got up from the bed when she was done, intent on heading for the door, but he stopped when Allison lightly grabbed his wrist. “What.”

“Don’t get pissy with me,” she said, eyes narrowed. “I’m doing this for you. You came to me and asked me and I think I deserve an explanation, Josten!”

Neil whirled on her, voice frustrated. “I don’t know! That didn’t look like me. It looked…” _ Normal_, Allison filled in the blank internally. Neil’s mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to come up with a word. “Weird,” he finally said, sitting back down on Allison’s bed in a defeated heap. “It looked weird. Everyone looks at me, they whisper about my face, but. It’s weird to cover them up.”

Allison didn’t understand. She didn’t _ want _ to understand what Neil went through, ever since they came back from that game. She studied him instead, looking at the hunch of his shoulders, the way that he seemed to almost fold in on himself. She thought about the whispers that followed her, when her parents first disowned her. “Who gives a shit, Josten.”

He looked up, anger already on his face, and Allison held up a hand to stall the incoming flood of vicious words. “I’m serious. Who gives a shit? If you didn’t play exy, no one would give a damn. Half of them probably still don’t give a damn. You could have a conference tomorrow and say you broke your face head-butting glass for a dare at a party and the world would move on and people would stop asking and stop staring, but honestly, why do you _ care_.” She flicked her fingers, angry a split second later when she realized that she had picked up the move from Andrew. “They’re people you won’t see after this year, in your classes. They’re reporters, do you even know their names? They’re fans that you’re never going to meet, and if you do it’ll be for five seconds at a signing or something and they’ll get in one damn word before the monster gets in between you and them.”

Neil was looking at her still, half angry and half considering. Allison relished that look. “You owe me for buying all of this,” she said, waving her hand at the menagerie of makeup bottles, “since none of it is my color.”

She got up then, offering Neil a hand to pull him to his feet. “Now, if you’re done with your stupid crisis, I have to go return what I didn’t open,” she told him, shoving him impatiently at the door. “You owe me, Josten.”

Neil looked shell-shocked still, eyebrows drawn together, face pulled into a considering frown. “I… Yeah. Sure. Uh. Thanks, I guess,” he said, hand resting on the doorknob. He was looking at her as if she had surprised him. 

Allison flicked her fingers at him again. “Whatever, Josten. Go flash your burnt up face on campus and kick their asses if they get to invasive,” she said, bored already of this needless conversation. Neil could have gotten the same advice from Andrew.

But he had come to her. She filed that information away, as Neil gave her a half-smile and finally left.


	30. I'm With You, You Know That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHARACTER DEATH in this chapter, along with descriptions of blood. It's canon-compliant [Mary Hatford] but if that is something that distresses you, please avoid this chapter.

When Neil’s mother dies, she makes him repeat every promise that he’d ever made to her.

A pale hand snakes to grab his wrist, leaving a bloody handprint, and Neil jerks the car to a stop somewhere on the beach. He’s breathing hard, knuckles white on the steering wheel, and he refuses to look over at her. He knows what he’ll see.

There’s so much blood, spilling over onto the seats of the car, staining her light blue t-shirt and her jeans. Her hair is still in a ponytail, strands falling out, and she’s breathing so shallowly that Neil halfway thinks she’s dead already as he rattles off the fake names that she’s given him during their time on the run.

Her fingers tighten ever so slightly, and he stutters to a halt.

“I’m with you,” she tells him, voice fiercer than ever before. “You know that. Don’t do anything stupid, Nathaniel.” 

Neil turns to look at her, finally, and she’s gone, still against the seats, fingers loose around his wrist.

He barely manages to wrench the door open in time to throw up on the sand, tearing his hand out of Mary’s grip.

Neil doesn’t have anything like a shovel, and there isn’t enough time to go in search of one. He can’t leave the car and his mother on the beach, and the sun was starting to rise along the horizon. Neil was running out of time, so he grabbed the spare gasoline can that Mary insisted they stop for, the gasoline can that Neil had just finished filling when a shot rang through the gas station parking lot, and Mary slumped forward in the passenger seat.

There wasn’t much in the can, but it was enough to sling on the car and Mary herself. Neil sets up a line of cigarettes in the sand, from the last pack that Mary had bought, and as the car and her body burns he smokes every single one.

The sun is well into the sky by the time there’s nothing left but ash, and Neil burns his fingers as he heaps beach sand over the carnage, spreading it as much as he can and looking at the metal frame of the car. There wasn’t much to be done about that, so he stripped his shirt and wrapped his hands and tugged whatever he could to hide behind the sand dunes.

He saves her bones for last, burying them right where the waves met the beach. 

_ I’m with you_, her voice seems to whisper on the wind, faint and gentle as the breeze ruffles his hair. 

Neil shakes his head, grabs his duffle bag, and sets off down the beach.


	31. Scared, Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Kevin, I really do, but. You know.

Kevin is cowering before Neil, but for once in his life Andrew was more interested in his cuticles than getting up to defend him.

To be fair, Kevin hadn’t started the argument cowering. He had just been reduced to that under the vicious slew of words that the striker was spewing, face red with anger, fingers curled into a fist. Another point was that Kevin deserved it, and Andrew had been sorely tempted to verbally slice Kevin into tatters himself.

He felt the tip of his knife, safely tucked into his wristbands, and considered. Probably physically, if it came down to it.

“–and you’re just a sorry, scared excuse of a person, Kevin, and I for one will never understand why so many people adore you, probably because you never open your goddamn mouth in front of them,” Neil snapped, whirling around in preparation to finally stalk off into the depths of the locker room. Andrew felt something that could have been called disappointment; few people told Kevin off, and it was always entertaining when someone finally had had enough to let loose on him. As long as they kept their hands to themselves, Andrew didn’t see the point in protecting Kevin from words.

“Scared, me?” Kevin asked, finally regaining his voice and apparently some of his spine. Not enough, though, because he shrank again as Neil whirled back on him.

“Yes, you fucking idiot. Scared. Terrified of Riko, terrified of telling Wymack he’s your father, terrified of  _ everything _ that doesn’t involve yelling at people that aren’t better than you on an exy court,” Neil spit out, waving his helmet to punctuate his statements. “I’m surprised that you can even stand up straight half the time, given that you don’t have a spine when it comes to Riko. How do you expect to face them on the court when every mention of his name sends you into a tailspin?” 

Kevin flinched, and Andrew was getting bored of the conversation. “Heel, Josten.”

Neil shot him a dirty look, eyes narrowed in anger. Andrew got up from his spot on the bench, starting to finally strip out of his gear. The sweat had dried on his skin from the coolness of the empty locker room, and Kevin looked sick rather than scared or angry. “Come back when he’s ready to fight again,” Andrew told Neil, bumping their shoulders together hard as he brushed past on his way to the showers. “At least make it entertaining for the audience.”

Neil looked after him, eyes still dancing with fury before he turned back to Kevin, anger morphing to disgust when the other man flinched away. “Pathetic,” he said, and went to follow after Andrew.


End file.
